


Definition

by most_curiously_blue_eyes



Series: Those that define us [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dubious Science, Family, Genius!Jim, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-01-26 00:39:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 54,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1668353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/most_curiously_blue_eyes/pseuds/most_curiously_blue_eyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The life of five-year-old James T. Kirk changes when an elderly Vulcan lost in time crosses his path and saves him. In the years to come, as the boy grows up into a young man, Spock is his driving force, his mentor, his friend, a constant in his life.<br/>Because in every universe, Jim Kirk is destined to meet a Spock. In this one, he gets to meet Spock twice and the experience defines him, shapes him into the person he is supposed to be. A child. A man. A genius. A captain. A son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One: I have been, and always shall be, your friend.

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for the Spock Prime Big Bang.  
> Companion art by [zootsuitzappy](http://zootsuitzappy.livejournal.com/) & [synnesai](http://synnesai.livejournal.com/) coming soon!

**Part One: I have been, and always shall be, your friend.**

 

It had been decades. Tens of years spent in the void that devoured planets and stars, empty of all life and yet, distant from death. At the same time, it had been mere seconds – seconds between the black hole he had created pulled him into a vortex: the moment he thought he had failed and his continued existence was the price to pay for failure; and the moment when he arrived on the other side of the passageway and saw Earth in the distance.

 

It might have had to do with destiny that he was able to immediately intercept a communication between a space shuttle and a currently docked spaceship. He frowned when he heard the current stardate. He continued to frown when the computer repeated the stardate and it still sounded the same. There was no mistake: the vortex transported him in space and time. One hundred and fifty years into the past, almost to the day. It appeared, additionally, that there was no going back: the passageway was closed and the singularity could not be detected in the vicinity, regardless of the number of times he scanned the area with long-range sensors his ship was equipped with.

 

What was the logical course of action in such circumstances? There had been many occasions when he had found himself in a different time, but none of those situations had seemed as irreversible. Additionally, he had never been trapped in a timeline all alone before, with no means to contact anyone in case of an emergency. Because of this, he could not base his next actions on precedent; as often they did in such moments, his thoughts went to his long-lost bondmate, and Spock found himself wondering what James Kirk would do, were he stranded in a time and place so far away from what he called home.

 

Thinking of James Kirk was what eventually prompted him to make an unusually impulsive decision: he set course to Earth, to the small town he remembered being Jim's birthplace. He felt a completely illogical desire to see the man he had come to cherish, even as a mere child that would know not of his existence, nor recognize him.

 

Trusting the cloaking system his ship possessed to keep him undetected, Spock used the computer to access information that would help him blend in within this timeline. As he read up on events that transpired before his arrival to this universe, he learned of a frightening truth: Nero had come here as well, five years earlier, and attacked the first Starfleet vessel he happened to come across as he emerged from the singularity: the USS Kelvin. The ship's captain and acting captain both died in that attack, the death of the latter having saved eight hundred lives, including that of his wife's and new-born son's.

 

That acting captain had been George Kirk, Jim's father.

 

When he later reminisced over the events of that day, Spock would often come to the highly illogical, yet welcome conclusion that it might have been destiny itself which willed him to land the Jellyfish so far from human dwellings, in the vicinity of a long-deserted quarry. He had expected the area to be empty of sentient life forms, so that he could make his landing free of witnesses and questions he did not have sufficient data to answer. Yet, as he exited the ship, soft sobbing – which he only picked up due to his sensitive Vulcan hearing - drew his attention: the sound of a Human child, crying. Curious as to what a child could be doing in such an unlikely location, Spock headed to the source of the sound.

 

The boy did not notice him until he was but a few steps away; as he finally heard Spock approaching, he raised his head, wiping at his tear-stained face with the sleeves of his oversized, ragged jacket. He looked very out of place where he was; and as he stared at Spock with bright, piercing blue eyes, despite the incorrect colour, Spock realized he knew who the child was.

 

'Jim,' he said softly, cautious not to terrify the boy by letting every emotion he was feeling affect the tone of his voice ( _surprise. longing. fear. happiness._ _ **love**_ ) (and what an embarrassment he was! For a Vulcan to feel so much emotion was a disgrace, yet he could not help it).

The boy started and took a step back at the familiarity with which he was approached. 'Who are you?' He asked, distrustful. For a mere child to act like a scared, small animal in danger of a predator's attack... what happened to this little one to cause him such distress?

'I have been, and always shall be, your friend,' Spock replied truthfully and was relieved to see some of the tension leaving the boy's (too thin, too frail) body.

'You're sounding too smart to be Frank's friend,' the child whispered and hugged the Vulcan's leg without a further moment of hesitation, much to Spock's surprise. 'Please help me, sir,' he begged, before he passed out.

*

Having returned to the Jellyfish, Spock set Jim on his relatively comfortable bed and began to work on all the matters in front of him. It took a relatively short time for Spock to gather all relevant information regarding Jim's life and the reasons for his current whereabouts. He did not question the morality of hacking into police databases in Iowa to further his knowledge of the child's situation. He did not hesitate to view his encrypted medical files in the local hospitals.

He had to use all of his superior knowledge of computers and inner workings of Starfleet to be able to find and contact Winona Kirk, Jim's mother, who was currently off-planet on a mission in the Orion constellation. After almost two hours, he inevitably did succeed in establishing a holovid conference with the woman who gave birth to Jim and left him alone.

'Greetings to you, Winona Kirk,' he said, showing a _ta'al_ to her. 'My name is S'chn T'gai Spock and I sought contact with you regarding your son, James Tiberius Kirk.'

'… Nice to meet you,' the woman said, confused. 'Um. What has Jim done this time? I mean, I've never been contacted about him before, and certainly not by a Vulcan.'

'It is to my understanding that he ran away from home,' Spock revealed. Winona's eyes widened. Clearly, she had had no idea what was going on in her house during her absence, judging from her indignant question of,

'But why?'

'His body is carrying multiple traces of physical abuse. Bruises and scarring are limited to areas covered by clothing; however, his jaw has also been broken and set very recently. Thankfully, he is young and in possession of regenerative abilities exceeding those of adult Humans. I intend to assist him by putting him into a deep meditative state, referred to as _healing trance_ by those accustomed to Vulcan physiology. As he is a child, such state can be induced in his mind from the outside without any potential harm,' Spock said. As he spoke, Winona looked increasingly terrified.

'Did... Frank do this to him?' She finally asked, looking defeated.

'It appears so. I have managed to collect sufficient data from various sources. I am also inclined to believe that it had been kept hidden from you by means of large quantities of money being handed to authority figures so that they would not contact you,' Spock admitted carefully, reluctant to admit he was in possession of classified knowledge. 'Winona Kirk, I need to share with you important information you should never share with other people: information on who I am and how I came to meet your son. Will you promise me to keep it to yourself?'

'Um, yeah,' Winona said, still shaken by the news of her husband's doings. 'Yes, I promise.'

So Spock told her everything. Moreover, she believed.

'It would therefore be logical if your son stayed under my care: not only am I capable of providing him with education far exceeding anything he would be offered in a Terran school, I am also genuinely concerned about his well-being and as such, I wish to care for him as a parental figure in your stead, Mrs Kirk.'

Winona appeared thoughtful. Spock observed her, aware of every thought she thought he was hiding (doubt. fear. guilt. worry. resignation). Even in the holovid, her face showed her emotion clearly, and it was as easy for Spock to read them as Jim Kirk's had been in another timeline, long ago. The woman was trying to determine whether leaving her son under the care of a Vulcan male she had never met before was a logical course of action, regardless of the fact he was clearly her best choice. She was not going to abandon her mission - her Starfleet career - and she could not send the child back to her abusive husband, because even if she was not as fond of Jim as a mother should be, she did not wish for his suffering. In these circumstances, Spock could already predict her decision, yet he waited patiently until she reached this conclusion on her own.

'Okay, yes,' Winona said finally. 'God knows Jim can use a rational, responsible... parental figure. But I have conditions,' she warned. Spock only lifted an eyebrow. He had expected this, of course.

'Please do tell,' he prompted.

'Well. Um. Most importantly, I want to be able to see my son when I'm on the planet,' Winona stated. It was perfectly reasonable and fairly obvious, so Spock did not find it warranting a response. 'Also, I don't want you taking him off-planet without my knowledge. Oh, and updates. I'd like weekly updates on him sent to my PADD, please. Um, what else... Oh! I will have a family friend, um, Christopher Pike, drop by from time to time to check on Jim. You know. Just to be sure. Of course, those visits will only be at the beginning, um, yeah. To be sure.'

Spock suppressed a smile at the mention of his old Captain's name. He was looking forward to reacquainting himself with Christopher Pike; they had had a friendship and deep mutual respect that he had risked being court-martialled over in another timeline. He would be pleased to make many new memories with the man Christopher Pike was in this timeline, this reality.

In that moment, Spock realized he intended to become a permanent part of this timeline.

Of course, it was only logical. Jim Kirk had need of him.

'I am amenable to your conditions,' he said when he saw Winona looking at him expectantly. The woman's relief was immediately visible. Humans could not hide emotions. Did they know how vulnerable it made them to species that could? 'I will inform Jim of his new situation once he is awake. As I already made you aware, his condition was poor when I encountered him, which makes it unwise to wake him now.'

'Mom?' A new voice asked shyly, a child's voice. Jim, it appeared, awoke of his own volition.

'Hi, Jimmy,' Winona greeted him with an uneasy smile. 'How are you doing, sweetheart?'

'Good now,' the child replied and yawned. 'The pointy-eared grandpa saved me.'

'That's a rude thing to call someone who saved you,' Winona chided. Spock was not offended, however. He was amused. Jim awakening during their conference was a fortunate coincidence: this was Winona could explain the new arrangements to her son instead of relying on Spock - virtually a stranger to Jim - to do it. The boy was more likely to trust his mother. 'Jim, listen to me now. You don't want to go back to Frank, right?' The boy shook his head vigorously. 'I thought so. Here's an alternative: you are going to live with Mister Spock. He is an old friend of... your dad's,' she lied smoothly. Spock did not approve, although he could see the logic in not revealing the whole truth to somebody who was most likely too young to appreciate it. 'He is a Vulcan and he really wants to take care of you.'

'Why?' Jim asked, blue eyes widening.

'Because you are a very special boy, Jimmy,' Winona said. 'Mister Spock can teach you how to be really amazing, you know? And maybe he can take you away from Iowa. I don't think you like it there much, do you?'

'I don't,' the boy admitted reluctantly. 'Frank hates me, the other kids bully me and Sammy's not here anymore. Can we go to San Francisco?' He asked Spock directly, eyes bright and hopeful.

'Perhaps,' the Vulcan answered. 'What is your reason for enthusing over San Francisco?'

'I want to join Starfleet and have my own starship! I'm going to be a captain and I'm going to explore space like Mom, and be a hero like my Dad,' Jim explained. Spock felt an inexplicable surge of pride. This child was so young, but already recognized the goals set to him by his destiny. No matter the timeline, Spock would see him become a starship captain. This was what he was here for.

'We will think about San Francisco,' Spock promised. It was nothing definite, but the light in Jim's eyes was almost blinding. 'Right now, however, we need to concentrate our efforts on returning you to full health. We cannot proceed before your condition is satisfactory. Say your farewells to your mother so that I can see to your recovery.'

'Bye bye, Mom,' said Jim. He did not appear very sad, mayhaps already used to being apart from his mother. If anything, it was Winona who looked pained to say goodbye. Spock figured it was because she felt guilty for abandoning her son when he had needed her presence.

'Goodbye, Jimmy. Be a good boy,' she said finally. Jim nodded seriously and the transmission ended, leaving the Human child and the Vulcan elder alone.

Jim looked at Spock, bright blue eyes showing an intelligence well beyond his age, searching for answers to unasked questions in the Vulcan's expressionless face.

'She lied,' the boy finally said, soft and blank. 'You're not Dad's friend. She doesn't talk to Dad's friends because they remind her of Dad. She lied. Did they sell me to you?'

Spock shook his head, surprised at the question - at the realization that such a grave suspicion could enter a mind so young. 'It is true that I have not met your father's acquaintance, Jim,' he admitted, 'but rest assured that I did not purchase you, as you are a living being and Vulcans abhor slavery. Your mother has simply agreed with me that my influence shall be beneficial for you if you intend to reach your true potential.'

'So... you like me?' Jim asked very, very softly, looking away.

'Vulcans do not feel emotion,' Spock informed him, 'but I admit to a fondness of you, Jim. Your well-being is of key importance to me.'

Judging by the shy smile that finally brightened the boy's tired face - Jim believed him.

*

In the end, after many discussions with Winona, Spock decided not to settle with Jim in San Francisco, instead choosing a different continent: Europe. More specifically, he found them a home in an English countryside with good communication to London. It was a good place to keep a low profile, as the Human idiom went, and it was potentially beneficial for Jim to be away from people and locations that would remind him of past abuse. Also, Spock calculated that the peace and quiet of the countryside could boost Jim's learning capacity by as much as nine point five four six per cent while the vicinity of a big city hosting many Starfleet facilities was likely to give him a sense of familiarity.

Spock decided against enrolling Jim into a public or a private school, electing instead to personally take charge of the boy's education. He had been an Academy instructor in the past - future - after all, so he possessed the necessary qualifications to be a teacher; and the problem with Jim, if he dare call it such, was that he was indeed too smart for what Terran schools and educators had to offer. At the age of five Terran years, he was already fluent at reading and writing (although his calligraphy needed additional work in Spock's opinion). He could list fifty biggest cities on Earth and the historical events connected to those cities. He had a lot of information about dinosaurs and similar creatures from other planets. He remembered which were the original planets that founded the Federation and also what was the current list of members. He was able to name the classes of federation starships and he knew how many teeth an adult Andorian possessed. He spoke in full sentences and used many words that he did not understand, trusting Spock to explain why a particular usage of a word was incorrect and how to use it better.

Bits and pieces of information found their way to Jim Kirk's head and he stored them, chaotic as they were, and then he tried to navigate through them to the best of his abilities. He was, Spock realized at first, rather startled, much like a Vulcan child: with an exceptional memory for facts and a hunger for knowledge on how to use those facts.

Teaching Jim was easy. Spock was just slightly concerned at first - for Vulcans do not worry - that he might not make a good guardian for the child due to his cool exterior.

Yet, Jim adored him. From the moment Spock showed him his new room

( _'You will be responsible for this area of the house, Jim. I will never enter your personal living space without invitation or a dire need, by which I understand an immediate danger to your person. You may clean up whenever you deem it necessary and the only think I ask is that you deposit laundry items in the adjacent bathroom for both our convenience. I also trust you not to leave out food items to rot or attract insects into your living quarters.'_ )

and promised to always be honest with him

( _'Vulcans cannot lie, Jim.'_ )

the boy's fondness of him appeared to grow fast as time went by. Two weeks after they started living together, Jim decided he wanted to be a Vulcan when he grew up, much to Spock's amusement which did not dissipate at all even throughout the long and thorough process of explaining to the boy exactly why this was not a possible future outcome. At one point, Jim announced that he was going to marry Spock - and the Vulcan suppressed the nostalgic smile that threatened to show on his otherwise stoic face.

They fell into their new life as easily as though it was meant to be.

*

'I don't want him to come,' Jim said for the thirteenth time since he had learned of Christopher Pike's first planned visit three weeks into their life in England. Spock told him with three days' notice, correctly assuming that the news of an innocent visit was going to bring a sense of insecurity to the boy. 'He's gonna hate me.'

'Where did you draw such a conclusion?' Asked Spock, intending to show the boy that opinions not based on facts were lacking in substance and therefore - illogical.

'He knew Dad. Everyone loved Dad, so they hate me, because Mom thinks Dad would be alive if not for me,' Jim explained, surprising and saddening Spock.

'This is not true,' the Vulcan said and sat at the kitchen table, motioning for the boy to sit on the chair across from him. 'Jim, your father's death was in no manner caused by you. Had it not been for your existence, George Kirk would likely still have sacrificed his life to save eight hundred lives present on the USS Kelvin at the time of the attack - including your mother's. You were an additional inspiration for him, and, I presume, an additional comfort in death. Do not blame yourself for your continued existence. Jim, you are alive for a reason. Everything in this universe - and, as it may be, in other universes as well - happens for a reason, even if we might not understand it until the right time comes. Even your father's death had a reason that will become clear to us in time.' He failed to mention that he was the precise reason. He and his failure to save Romulus. He was aware that Jim was not old enough to understand the complexities of the singularity that brought both the Narada and Spock himself to this timeline. Most adult Humans would not understand. Even in possession of wisdom exceeding his young age, Jim was not ready to comprehend the explanation - and therefore, it was logical to keep the truth from him until such a time when he would be able to process it and judge Spock accordingly.

Spock was relieved that his Jim Kirk - from his own timeline - had been spared from the experience of losing his father and not having a chance of meeting him. It grieved him, however, that the innocent, blue-eyed child had been forced to suffer this much already... all because of his failure.

'Do you like me, Spock?' The boy asked in a near whisper. He did that quite often and Spock learned to associate the question with moments of self doubt and insecurity that Jim seemed to experience on a frequent basis.

'I do,' the Vulcan replied truthfully, for once foregoing the fact that Vulcans do not show emotions, including fondness. Jim was in such a vulnerable age when he needed a more emotional approach, especially after the events he had had to face; mayhaps what he really required was more than Spock could provide in his limited capacity for feelings. That was why Commander Pike was a welcome guest, as far as Spock was concerned: as a Human, he would be able to become a more emotional mentor for Jim, if they both took a liking to each other (which, despite the lack of proof, Spock found himself believing whole-heartedly). Both approaches had the potential to aide the boy's mental and emotional development (the latter of which was extremely important for a Human and virtually impossible to be taught by a a Vulcan alone. It was hard for Spock to admit that he was lacking something in the education department, but he grudgingly accepted that no amount of academical prowess could help him really understand the complexity of Human emotionality).

'Jim, do you wish to learn a form of entertainment I am most fond of?' Spock asked after a while of silence. The boy looked at him with such a bright smile ( _how can a smile be bright?_ ), he felt a warm sensation spreading through him, as though he had drank a cup of tea on a particularly chilly evening (which was every evening, considering the fact they lived in England). 

_Fascinating._

'I will teach you after Christopher Pike's visit under the condition that you behave appropriately; which, I do not doubt you would even without the motivation provided by the prospect of a reward.'

'I'll be good,' Jim promised solemnly. 'You'll be proud!'

*

Christopher Pike did not look much unlike what Spock remembered; there were some subtle differences, as he supposed would be noticeable between timelines, but the point was, he would recognized the man on the street if they happened to meet coincidentally - a possibility Spock doubted would arise, and yet considered it worth deliberation.

It was unusually sunny outside when Pike arrived, bearing a gift for Jim and a rather clumsy ta'al for Spock. He was not wearing his Starfleet uniform, clad instead into a well-made suit. Spock greeted him and felt a surge of pride when Jim showed a ta'al and welcomed the man in their house much like he did. Of course, the seriousness soon was forgotten when Pike's gift proved to be a starship model.

'Do you like it?' The man asked, eyes twinkling. Spock lifted an eyebrow at the Human's apparent need to ask questions the answers to which were obvious.

'It's amazing and awesome, Spock, look, look I can paint it myself, thank you Mister Pike!' The child all but shouted in enthusiasm. Spock suddenly wondered if maybe he should have provided Jim with toys that did not serve educational purposes only. It was possible that Human children needed to busy their minds with impractical items as well as practical ones in order to grow correctly. He needed to research the subject.

'Would you be amenable to a cup of tea and a couple of biscuits to go with it, Commander Pike?' Spock asked the visitor, inviting him further into the house.

'Yes, please,' said Pike, following him to the big, spacious kitchen. It was the brightest room in the house, which made it ideal for interactions between Humans, as well as an ideal learning environment for Jim. Spock remembered the environment in which he, himself, had had to learn: the small cubicles with dimmed lights, the computer voice and the impersonality of the whole process. A Human would not thrive in such conditions, which was why Spock strained to make education entertaining for Jim. Entertaining and comfortable.

He utilized a computer, a projector, but also an old-fashioned blackboard with chalk (although he was not partial to the feel - and smell - of the chalk powder on his fingers - Jim seemed to enjoy the activity a lot, however). He taught Jim using his own knowledge and relying on his outstanding memory (for a Human who did not, like a Vulcan, possess an eidetic memory as a part of his physiology), but he also gathered books on subjects related to the topics covered during their lessons for the boy to read whenever he was amenable to do so. He made sure to teach Jim to maintain the right posture, but he also provided him with pillows to sit on and things to busy his hands with if need be. The boy's talent for multitasking was exceptional.

'So, how have you been doing, Jim?' Pike asked when the three of them settled down at the table, with tea and biscuits served. He noticed that Jim's plate had a serving of fruits, cut up into perfect cubes, in addition to the cookies. Spock thought he saw approval in his expression. He did not say anything: he did not find it necessary to tell the man Jim would not eat his biscuits without the addition of fruit.

'Um, fine. Learning 'n stuff,' Jim replied to the question, suddenly shy and defensive. He acted that way around strangers a lot. Last week, they held a small welcome meeting for the closest neighbours (Spock heard it was a countryside Human tradition, and he decided it had merits: the neighbouring families had children roughly the same age as Jim; mayhaps the boy could benefit from contact with his peers) and Jim was essentially silent and closed off the whole time. Fortunately, the ladies were talkative enough to entertain themselves without either of them providing input; Spock observed the Humans interact while Jim played with a Rubik cube.

Commander Pike was not a random stranger, however. Spock harboured hope that Jim would open up to him. The gift was, after all, a significant first step.

'What have you been learning?' Pike asked, genuinely interested. It might have been the right question, because Jim visibly brightened. He looked over at Spock, seeking confirmation; when the Vulcan nodded, the boy started talking.

'Lot's of stuff! Like, lots of history, but not only Earth, also Federation and some pre-Federation for different planets. And, Maths. Spock is amazing at Maths! He says I have a talent for it, too. Isn't that neat? And grammar. Grammar's boring but Spock says I gotta use it correctly if I want to be captain one day. Oh, and languages! Because a captain has to be  _pro-fi-cient_ in different languages. So we started with Andorian and it's really funny, but I like it. Do you know many languages, Mister Pike?' Jim asked, curiosity shining in his eyes as he looked at the man. 

'Yes. But not as much as Mister Spock, I'm sure,' replied Pike, smiling. 'Still, that's a lot learning. Don't you get tired of it?'

Jim looked rather affronted at the question. Spock found the expression on the boy's face very amusing, although he did not let it show. 'There's nothing better than learning! And Spock never gives me homework. He doesn't need to. He's so smart I learn everything from him and I just read the books b'cuz they're fun.'

'What books?'

_Books far beyond what his peers could understand_ , Spock found himself thinking. High school textbooks, light scientific articles and lots of classical literature. Of course, he did not believe Jim understood a lot of the things he was reading, but that was, actually, not the point of this exercise. The point was to familiarize the boy with various types of books, to broaden his interests and motivate him to further his understanding via research. He knew the kind of person Jim Kirk was: knowledge-hungry. He would not accept defeat when something appeared too complex for him, too difficult: he instead doubled his efforts and pushed himself to overcome any limitations in order to win. It did not matter that he was five years old; he wanted to know all there was to know and he did not accept that the books were too smart for him. To him, it only meant that he had to become smarter.

Jim would make an excellent scientist.

Later, Pike asked about the schedule of Jim's day and learned that it was not filled to the brim with lessons. Actually, Spock decided six hours a day was a sufficient amount of time for a child Jim's age. In accordance to his studies and assumptions, he created a daily routine: awakening at eight o'clock, breakfast at eight thirty, then a three-hour studying period dedicated to Maths and science topics (Jim was much more concentrated on those in the mornings, his mind sharper and more logical). At twelve o'clock, a one hour break for lunch (preferably a fruit salad, composed of the few kinds of fruit Jim was not allergic to, but sometimes Spock found himself illogically indulging Jim by making him burgers or fired potato pieces, known as French fries) and entertainment of his preference. This was followed by a nap at one o'clock (due to the fact that otherwise, Jim would inevitably fall asleep during classes). Then, at one thirty, sometimes later if Jim didn't wake up, lessons resumed, this time covering history and linguistics. After that, they differentiated between making dinner at home or going out; that was due to Spock's limited culinary talents. What followed was always a long walk after dinner. Their location allowed for treks that were greatly satisfactory for both; Spock found the closeness to Earth's nature relaxing while Jim found it exciting. The child's imagination showed during those walks, turning him into a starship captain exploring brand new worlds; the changing of seasons they were experiencing helped, because even if they ended up visiting the same area two days in a row, it looked different somehow: more leaves turned red and yellow, more mushrooms showed up, encouraged by the rain shower at night; fog settled, clearing the path to a new discovery (a trail of a fox, a small forest stream, a squirrel). Spock found himself playing along most of the time, simply because it pleased Jim. Their walks rarely took less than three hours, and would take much longer if not for the sunsets Jim enjoyed watching from the kitchen window, drinking cocoa and eating (healthy) snacks. The walks were always followed by sunset watching, and then, entertainment or spare time, as Humans would call it. Bedtime was not set at a specific hour. Spock gave Jim the freedom to decide his own sleeping hours and was very strict when the boy went to sleep at two in the morning one night, which made him unable to concentrate and focus on his lessons the following day. Jim was an intelligent Human child: he did not repeat the mistake ever again.

Commander Pike appeared pleased with Jim's summary of their days. He smiled when the boy finished and busied himself with the starship model. He looked at Spock. 'I believe I owe you an apology, Mister Spock. Before I came here, I thought it was a bad idea for a Vulcan to raise a Human child. I thought you might be too strict for him. I see now I was mistaken.'

'No apology is needed where no offence was taken,' Spock said, inclining his head. 'Indeed, I am grateful for your honesty and your change of heart pleases me.'

'I'll tell Winona you're good for the kid,' Pike promised. Spock did not reply, instead directing his gaze at Jim, who carefully set the toy starship on the table, reached for a piece of fruit, ate it and cleaned his hands with a napkin before returning to playing with the model. He was aware of the warmth Pike must have been seeing in his expression. While it was embarrassing (a Vulcan showing emotion, a Vulcan with a facial expression), he did not mind it much. He wanted the man to know how important Jim Kirk was to him. He believed Pike understood.

'I thank you, Commander Pike,' he said finally.

After the man left, Spock taught Jim to play chess. The boy clutched the toy starship the whole time even as he concentrated on the game, so Spock made a mental note to purchase a set of model paints the next day.

*

Jim Kirk was an illogical Human - even more so because he was a child and Spock was not used to interacting with children, even extremely intelligent ones - and Spock did not understand approximately ninety seven point four per cent of his actions and reactions. Therefore, he did not know why Jim was looking at him with a strange emotion evident in his blue eyes, trying to hide his bleeding hand behind his back and to cover the broken glass from his field of vision.

'I'm so sorry,' Jim apologized, but it was not the kind of apology Spock would expect for an event of such minimal significance. There were tears in the child's eyes - possibly because of the wound causing him physical pain - and he was trembling. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to break it, the glass was wet and slippery and I'm going to clean up the mess I'm sorry!' Jim babbled without pausing for breath, sounding hysterical, and it took Spock almost one whole minute to recognize the boy's behaviour as fear.

'Jim,' he said as softly as he could, not letting emotion affect his tone of voice. 'I am not angry with you,' he assured. 'A broken glass is just that: a broken glass. It is an item that can be easily replaced. However,' he looked at the small pool of blood collecting on the floor next to Jim's foot, beneath where he was hiding his hand, 'you are much more precious. I would not be able to replace you were I to lose you. Because of this, you need to let me look at your injury. Are you willing to comply with my request?'

Jim's eyes widened as he spoke, as though the boy could not believe his ears; as though he really thought a mere broken glass would upset Spock and cause him to show anger. Why he held such a conviction was beyond Spock, whose mind was unable to fully comprehend the idea of any kind of abuse performed against children; that Jim had to go through an experience that made an innocent accident escalate into a gravely matter in the child's mind pained Spock immensely.

'You won't... punish me?' Jim asked uncertainly, as though punishment was what he was used to. Spock assured that he was not going to punish him in any way and watched him visibly relax and even put on a shy smile.

He wished to change everything, to make Jim's world a better, safer place.

As he led the boy to the bathroom to take care of his injury, he promised himself, quite illogically, that he would never let harm come Jim's way ever again.

*

Spock had not understood what it was about the transition of seasons that caused an emotionality in Humans until he first witnessed it himself. During a walk to the woods, exactly a month and six days after Jim's sixth birthday, he looked at the boy when he was speaking and saw a faint outline of green against the snow. He showed it to Jim and they came closer to examine it curiously.

It was a cluster of small, delicate white flowers with green leaves. Spock knew the species:  _Galanthus nivalis_ , known also as the snowdrop, one of the first bulbs to bloom in early spring. It was not a species native to Great Britain, but it had been introduced there in ages long past, so long that it was widely naturalised in British woodlands. 

It was a curious plant, but Jim's reaction to it was even more curious. The boy crouched as close to the cluster as he could without stepping on it and circled it with his hands. Then, he breathed air at the flowers in small puffs.

'What are you doing, Jim?' Spock asked.

'Warming them up,' Jim replied in between breaths. 'So they don't freeze.'

It was the first Spring Spock saw for himself, ad he continued observing it every day until it came to pass. It was the first Spring for Jim as well.

*

When Jim called Spock  _A'nirih_ for the first time, the Vulcan's eyebrows shot up into his hairline - both of them, which was entirely unusual. Jim was already seven years old and his intelligence was far beyond that of his peers. It had a downside Spock had not acknowledged before: because he was too clever, Jim had no friendly relations with other children, since he was simply too grown up to appreciate such relations. This caused the boy to spend most time in the company of Spock and books. Oh, the books. Jim's inclination towards books could only be described with a Human expression: Jim was  _devouring_ them, assimilating as much knowledge as was possible for a child of his race who possessed no eidetic memory. Because the boy asked explicitly, their education periods were increased to eight hours a day, with the two additional hours taking place after their customary walks (even after two years, they did not break that habit): Spock found no reason to deny the boy lessons he clearly wanted, especially since he found the act of sharing his knowledge and wisdom with the boy very pleasant. 

They did not, however, even approach the Vulcan language in their studies. They were currently focused on many other points of education, including physics and chemistry, which took up a lot of time because they required a lot of practical experience; Spock had arbitrarily decided that Vulcan, as a language, was not necessary for Jim to know at such an early point of his life, as most Vulcans spoke Standard and took no offence in other species not knowing their mother tongue. An additional factor to this choice was the fact that Vulcan was a difficult language to learn and required a lot of time and effort which, at this particular phase of Jim's education, were needed elsewhere.

Still, Jim surprised him with  _A'nirih_ . It was most definitely a Vulcan word, meaning a male who took in and brought up a child: a father not connected by blood ties. Jim could not have picked up a random word from the universal translator; to end up with this word, the word that fit so well, he had to have done some research. 

'Is... is it alright if I call you that?' The boy asked uncertainly, most evidently put off by Spock's lack of reaction. He was rarely this insecure anymore, having learned through everyday events that he was well-liked and wanted in Spock's life. 'I-I think the pronunciation is correct, ummm... is it?'

'Your pronunciation is adequate,' Spock admitted.

'… but you don't want me to call you that?...' Jim asked again, already turning his big, blue eyes away to hide the tears filling them. He was extremely emotional, given that he was being brought up with a Vulcan for a role model: a trait Spock would not willingly suppress in the boy, despite the frequent discomfort he was subjected to when dealing with displays he has no wish to shield against.

'I did not say that,' Spock said said softly, 'nor did I intend to. The term is... more than acceptable, if you are aware of its meaning and its application to myself.'

Jim brightened visibly, then made an expression of concentration, as though he was being tested on his knowledge. ' _A'nirih_ means you. Like, a father, but not my birth father. And also not like Frank, because Frank was a bastard and he just married Mom, he didn't really want me.  _A'nirih_ means you take care of me and care for me. You're like Dad, but you're here instead.'

Spock felt a warmth in his chest, a warmth he had associated with his own Jim for a very long time; it was different when in association to this timeline's Jim, however. He realized immediately why: to this Jim, this blue-eyed, intelligent child, he was a parent.

He had never thought parenthood would be granted to him before. Even for those two years spent in England with Jim, he had not thought of himself as more than the boy's caretaker.

'It is correct,' he said finally, when Jim kept looking at him in anticipation. 'There is nothing I wish for more than to be  _A'nirih_ to you.' 

Jim's smile was precious.

*

Their first trip further than London took them to France. Winona could not be contacted about an off-planet voyage and Spock decided it would be a good opportunity to teach Jim more about Terran history. France was as good a place as any to start. It was a logical choice.

Jim loved it there.

Spock had to admit Disneyland in Paris was not one of the destinations he had in mind when they set off, but in the end, giving into Jim's pleas had been worth it. The laughter of the child -  _his child_ \- during and between the rides was contagious and even though his Vulcan pride would not allow him to join in, it did not prevent him from regarding Jim with a soft, warm expression. 

Even days later, when he thought back to the Disneyland visit, Spock could still feel the warmth in his chest and it almost weighed out the emptiness that was always on the back of his mind since the day his timeline's Jim Kirk had been lost to him.

The trips to various Terran locations became an annual tradition over time.

*

When the symptoms first started, Spock was close to cursing himself for his lack of foresight. There was no excuse for completely forgetting about this, for simply thinking that if he was already a father, the drive would not happen to him. Of course, he could reason with himself that he was busy, that raising Jim (whose ninth birthday was coming up in just three days) took up most of his time and thought. It was not a sufficient explanation, however. He was a Vulcan and he allowed for a near grave mistake.

Arrangements needed to be made.

First, he contacted Winona. He would have preferred to talk to Christopher about this, but the Commander was on a deep space mission and not due to come back in the next three months. Spock did not have that long. It was logical, then, to speak to Winona.

'I will need to leave Jim under the care of somebody responsible for no longer than nine days,' he announced as soon as the holovid conference was set up. 'I have urgent business to attend to on Vulcan and I cannot take Jim with me. I welcome your suggestions.'

'Umm... that's kinda sudden,' the woman said, confused. 'But, you know what? My brother could probably take Jim. He's got two kids close to this age of his own, and they live in the countryside too. I'll need to talk to him, but I think it can be arranged. When would you need to drop him off?' She asked, reaching for her PADD.

'As soon as possible,' Spock replied. Winona looked at him strangely, but said nothing. 'I have many other arrangements to make; please contact me when you confirm this with your brother and send me the location.'

Before Winona could reply, Spock already cut the transmission. The next thing he had to do was much harder, much more complicated, but he set to do it without hesitation: it was inevitable. He contacted the only person on Vulcan who would be able to believe him and extend help: the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth. His father. Sarek.

He had considered telling a lie about his origins in order to hide the truth of an alternate timeline; in the end, he decided, in spite of his better judgement, to be sincere. Vulcans did not take kindly to dishonesty, as in most cases, it was ill-advised: as the true facts were more than likely to come out at one point, it was illogical to try to cover them up with fiction.

Still, Spock wondered if it was wise when he introduced himself to Sarek, using his true name.

'I find myself disinclined to continue this conversation,' the Ambassador admitted. 'I do not wish to be mocked.'

'I am not mocking, as the situation about which I am contacting you is very dire, Ambassador. The Time is upon me,' Spock replied. It changed everything.

'You are unbonded?' Sarek asked.

'My bondmate has been dead for decades,' said Spock. In his timeline, he no longer experienced the drive: since the day the bond was broken, since the day he felt Jim Kirk's death and the ensuing emptiness inside him. That might have been why he forgot about it. But his severed bond did not forget and it brought the drive back, recognizing the blue-eyed Jim Kirk as the same person it had been longing for all this time.

'You will receive help,' Sarek declared. 'It will not be a perfect match, but a recently widowed colleague of mine is suffering because of a severed bond. You might find satisfaction in one another's minds.'

Spock knew no mind, no soul in the universe could compare to his bondmate, to his beloved; yet, he found it did not matter. He needed to do this and survive. For Jim. His son.

'I shall be on my way to Vulcan today. Please expect my arrival in the adequate time,' he said. Sarek nodded and the transmission ended. Spock felt relieved. Even though he had a lot more to say to the Vulcans, most of all Sarek, it could wait until his Time passed. All he had to do now was to explain everything to Jim.

He should have expected this conversation to be the hardest of all.

'Why can't I go with you?' Jim asked softly. His hair was getting too long, Spock noticed all of a sudden. He needed a haircut. And did he get taller again? Otherwise, why was his shirt too short?

'It is very important that I go alone, Jim,' the Vulcan said. 'I will not be long. You can think of it as a vacation period - I understand Human children get excited over holidays when they do not need to pursue education.'

'You know I hate not learning,' Jim muttered. It was true. Once, when he was eight, Jim fell sick and had to be confined to bed for three days. He had slept through most of the first day and demanded his usual lessons after that. Spock had had no choice but to teach him while he was bed-ridden. 'And I'm pretty sure Mom's family doesn't even want me. Take me with you, I'll be good. You won't even notice I'm there, that's how good I'll be!'

'Unlikely,' Spock replied with a sigh.  _For many reasons, none of which you can understand yet._ 'Jim, it is not a matter of discussion. The decision has been made. I am asking you to pack your essentials. We are leaving in half an hour.' 

Jim made a face, but did not protest further. He did not speak to Spock at all until they parted.

For a reason Spock could not exactly comprehend, a feeling of dread filled him for a moment when he lost sight of Jim as the boy boarded the shuttle that would transport him to Iowa. He fought it back. It was illogical. Jim was not in danger. His mother's family would await him in the shuttlebay and he would spend a relaxing week in their presence.

He was hardly convinced about it even as he set off to Vulcan.

*

Exactly nine days, three hours and eighteen minutes later, Spock was trying, to no avail, to contact Jim via the boy's communicator. It was unexpected, but he supposed it could have been Jim's way of showing he was still cross with him. It made sense; the boy put an unusual weight to his birthdays (because, as he told Spock, it was nice to finally have a birthday that did not feel like a funeral;  _'it sucks when my birthday is Dad's dead anniversary'_ ), and Spock was forced to miss the important day without explanation. Hopefully, Jim would forgive him. After all, Spock brought him a gift from Vulcan, one he was sure the boy would appreciate. 

He accepted a communication with Winona when he noticed she was trying to reach him - and from the moment he saw her face, he knew something was wrong.

'They sent him away,' the woman said by means of greeting. ( _guilt. fear._ ) 'To a colony. You know, I even agreed, and he was eager to go. Mark's kids hated him at first sight and Jimmy hated them, so it was much easier for everyone. You know, he could learn so many things there, it's a nice, established colony with a good education system. But, two days ago, we suddenly lost all contact with the colony. Spock, I'm sure it's nothing, but...' She trailed off. 

Spock felt the same dread that gripped him before he'd left for Vulcan, tearing at his conscience, even as he asked, emotionlessly, 'What is the name of the colony?'

And even before Winona answered, he knew: 'Tarsus IV.'

*

There were certain things that always happened, despite the actions of individuals against them, despite the circumstances surrounding them being radically different. In another timeline, Jim Kirk was on the Tarsus IV when he was thirteen years old and witnessed the massacre of one half of the colony's inhabitants. An act of pure evil like that had no reason to be repeated in another timeline, but it seemed as though the event had been branded in the course of time, in what might be called destiny; dates did not seem to be of consequence. The colonization of Tarsus IV took place much earlier, the famine hit much sooner, forcing a much younger Jim Kirk, whose presence on the planet was too much of a coincidence, to survive something even an adult could not escape from unscathed.

_This time_ , Spock thought as he hurried through the galaxies with the Jellyfish,  _this time Jim is not alone._

He was the first to arrive to the dying colony, but he knew within hours, half a dozen Vulcan ships would be reaching the orbit. As illogical as acting on a guess was, Sarek accepted Spock's reasoning when contacted and agreed to convince the Council to send help: Tarsus IV was the responsibility of the Federation and Vulcans could not accept so much senseless death if they could prevent it. No effort was a wasted one when the stake was this high.

He was too late. They were all too late. Jim's blue eyes were not the same after Tarsus IV, the light in them lost for many years to come; and even as Jim's small body, covered in blood that was not his, small and trembling, clung to him, wrapped in a rare embrace, finally safe, Spock grieved for the innocence that was lost. He had failed again.

'I will never leave you alone again,' he promised, illogically, and even though new sobs shook Jim's body and new tears stained Spock's clothing where the boy's face was pressed against him, he felt he was believed. Jim's trust and love were everything. He would not lose them again.

The parental bond, one he had not been able to form with the boy prior to being joined in marriage for his Time, blossomed in his mind. Spock found it more precious than anything.

_This little one could be our son_ , he thought to the memory of the man he would never stop cherishing.  _I will do everything in my power to raise him well._

*

The boy slept soundly at night and had no nightmares. The horrors of Tarsus IV did not haunt him in the dark, because a Vulcan mind healer's work kept them at bay. Instead, they crippled him during the day for a long time, the echoes of the massacre softening, but not truly disappearing.

Spock taught Jim how to deal with them:  _Imagine chess as an army you lead. This army can protect you, Jim. Every successful move, every small victory of your army is a victory against your fears. Look at your pawns, Jim. They seem so insignificant, you are ready to sacrifice them for the greater good, are you not? Now, think about it: every time a pawn is sacrificed in exchange for a chance at a victory, you are the winner. You beat a demon inside your head on your own terms, with your own tactics. Can you imagine that?_

As far as the boy let him know, the method was working.

*

' _A'nirih_ , why don't we move somewhere warmer?' Jim asked one time when he was thirteen. They were on their customary walk in the woods, both clad in many layers of clothing against the harsh cold of Winter. Jim was carrying the tricoder he had received for his birthday six days prior, scanning trees and lumps of snow at random. Spock was wearing the knit hat and gloves Jim presented to him on Christmas (even though they did not celebrate the holiday in any other way, Jim still insisted on giving Spock presents each year. He claimed it was because the Vulcans did not celebrate birthdays, so he could not repay Spock for all the birthday gifts he had received. The thought that Spock did not require gratification did not seem to agree with him). 

'I was under the impression you enjoyed it here,' Spock said, raising an inquiring eyebrow.

'Yeah, well. I do. It's nice, and it's home. The stars are so bright here. And Chris likes it here when he visits. And we have this sleighing trip planned, that's gonna be fun,' Jim grinned at him. 'But it's too cold for you,  _A'nirih_ . You're a Vulcan. And you're not young anymore, so you're probably even colder than you let on. We could move to California. Or to Italy, if you wanna stay in Europe. Remember when we had that trip to Rome? Admit it, you loved all the architecture there.' 

'I found it interesting,' was all Spock was willing to admit.

'See? I bet you'd want to live there. See all the cultural stuff. There's nothing like that here,' Jim said with a sigh. 'Aren't you bored?'

'Are you happy here, Jim?' Spock asked, studying the boy's face, the way his eyebrows were drawn together when he concentrated.

'Yeah,' Jim replied after a while. It was sincere.

'Then I am content to stay here,' Spock concluded. They did not bring it up again. That evening, Jim won their chess match for the first time and they celebrated by painting a new starship model together.

*

Introducing Jim to a group of similarly exceptional peers in London did not go as planned. Spock had been planning this occasion for weeks; he had come in contact with the Starfleet-founded organization that gathered young geniuses from all around Britain and allowed them to interact, a notion designed to help them feel less isolated and to let them exchange ideas. The concept appealed to the Vulcan, so he endeavoured to acquaint Jim with children of similar intellectual capacities as he himself possessed in an attempt to introduce the boy to social behaviour.

Jim left the gathering, organized like a scientific symposium, after barely an hour. He then promptly proceeded to steal a hovercar and drive aimlessly all around London before jumping out of the vehicle at the last second as it headed at high speed straight into the waters of the Thames. He was driven home later by a pair of police officers who appeared more worried than angry, which was the emotion Spock would have expected in these circumstances. He did not utter a word as Spock apologized for the trouble and paid for the damage.

'Those guys sucked,' he said later, sitting at the kitchen table as Spock prepared cocoa. His face betrayed no emotion, a rather unusual trait for the boy who was never afraid to express his feelings openly. His gaze was locked in one specific point of the table's wooden surface.

'You will need to elaborate on that,' Spock informed him calmly. He needed Jim to explain his actions – in order to understand the reasons behind his unexpected behaviour, and in order for Jim himself to understand what he did wrong.

'It was... cool at first,' Jim muttered. His vocabulary was growing more affected by the online forums young people his age participated in. Spock had taken it as a good sign before. Now, he was no longer certain. 'They were smart, those kids, I give them that. But so, so stupid.' He paused and sighed.

Spock did not urge him to continue. He handed him a mug of cocoa instead and waited until the boy was ready to go on.

'It was a bad day to join them, that's all,' Jim eventually said. 'They held some kind of a discussion about Tarsus IV. Apparently, it's progressive and trendy to find millions of reasons to justify Kodos' actions. One guy, Gary Mitchell was his name – I remember because I punched him – he downright said Kodos had the right to do what he did. That the people on the death list were, under the circumstances, less of an asset to the society as a whole and should have accepted their sacrifice for the good of the population. He also said, and the others agreed, that it's only fair that those that are superior will survive. That it's no major loss if bad genes are eliminated.' His hands curled into fists in a display of helpless rage. 'Then they discussed who would survive and who would have to agree to be sacrificed if a sudden hypothetical crisis hit us right that moment. I asked them if they knew who I was. They said yes, they called me the son of a hero, and decided I would be spared.'

He laughed, the sound hollow and bitter. Spock did not touch him, but more than ever wished to be able to erase his pain. Jim was still but a child, too young and too precious to have to go through such a horror yet again.

'Did you leave then?' The Vulcan asked, already knowing the answer.

'No,' Jim replied softly, confirming his suspicions. 'I just smiled at them and, when I was sure they were all looking at me, I said: “Well Kodos didn't agree with you”,' he shook his head. 'They didn't believe me. Gary Mitchell outright called me a liar and said I was pretending to be a Tarsus survivor to get attention. Then he started talking stupid racist stuff like, how the Vulcans should have stayed on their planet and not intervened with Tarsus, how they probably came to the rescue because they didn't want Kodos to create a race that would be superior to them... so I punched him in that stupid face and got out of there. I took the car because I needed to think, and I always think better when I'm moving fast. The river was an accident. I didn't know the brakes were broken.'

'Your reaction was emotional,' Spock said.

Jim winced at the words and immediately tried to defend himself: 'Yeah. Yeah, it was. Sorry,  _A'nirih_ , but I'm Human and we're often emotional, so-'

'You misunderstand. I am not making an accusation, but an observation,' Spock interjected. 'I am making an effort to analyse and acknowledge your side of the events.'

'You're angry with me,' Jim mumbled and moved his gaze to the far wall.

'No, Jim, I am not,' the Vulcan denied. 'I am merely disappointed. I have hoped you would flourish in the company of your peers of comparable intellects. I was mistaken when I assumed you would find such company amongst this particular group.'

Jim finally looked at him, blue eyes widened and, Spock noticed with a certain regret, filled with tears. It was painful to watch him like this, yet there was a lesson to be learned from this experience. For both of them.

'I'm sorry,  _A'nirih_ ,' the boy whispered. 

Spock nodded his head, satisfied with the apology. 'I am also sorry, Jim,' he admitted easily.

For a while, they both sat in comfortable silence while Jim sipped on his cocoa. Then, when the boy got up to wash the empty mug, Spock sat at the table and asked,

'Do you know why you reacted the way you did?'

'Because I'm socially awkward and have no idea how to act around people who aren't my Vulcan dad or a really cool Starfleet officer from San Fran?' Jim countered with a question of his own. He put the cleaned mug on the drier and took the opportunity to do the rest of the dishes as well.

'This might be part of the reason,' Spock agreed, allowing himself to show amusement in the slight twitch of the corners of his lips – especially since Jim was not looking, busy with the chore as he was. 'However, I believe it not to be the core of the problem, Jim. You do not see it, because you are limited in your experience, but I have come to realize this: you are a very protective young man, Jim. You did not resort to violence in your own defence, but in that of my race. You should not have, and I am certain you would have restrained yourself, had you had the time to give it more thought – yet you put yourself in unnecessary danger in order to protect what you deem to be important to you. Even though the instinct is wholly misplaced in regards to the Vulcan race as a whole,' Spock paused and waited until Jim looked at him questioningly, 'it is still a commendable trait.'

'I don't like it when people talk about Vulcans like they know anything,' Jim muttered, looking away, at his hands. 'Not just Vulcans, too. Why do people have to be xenophobic?'

'You will find in time that it is a trait shared by races all over the universe: it appears that we all fear that which is different from what we know,' Spock replied. 'I am proud to see you not succumb into this irrational way of thinking.'

'Why would I? Every sentient being is fascinating in one way or another, right? You taught me that,' Jim said. Spock was glad to detect the ever-present warmth in his voice.

'I did,' he admitted.

The lesson, it appeared, was learned.

*

Jim was as logical a child as a Human could be at fourteen, Spock supposed. Too intelligent to attend school, to find pleasure or stimulation in communication with other teenagers, Jim kept mostly to the safe confines of his home, constructing miniature engines from parts he salvaged from old electronics or reading - devouring - books (Spock wondered what he had done wrong that caused the boy's eyesight to require reading glasses, but concluded it was something that could not have been prevented; Jim's eyes had apparently been unusually sensitive since his birth in space). He asked questions if he did not know where to find answers by himself, and Spock always found the discussions born from those questions satisfying. Jim had his own opinions, formed from collecting all available data, and even though they did not always agree, that was what made it more interesting.

Sometimes, Spock found himself irrationally regretting Jim was not of Vulcan and could not, therefore, pursue an academic career in the Vulcan Science Academy. On those occasions, he firmly told himself that seeking Sarek's help in overcoming that disadvantage was not the preferable course of action; that Jim would not be happy on Vulcan, where his most basic needs would not be fulfilled.

Jim was a Human, therefore he needed to feel emotion as much as he needed to breathe air.

'Are we gonna have the sex talk like, ever?' Jim asked during one of their lessons, when they were covering one of the topics of xenobiology - namely, the Andorian digestive system (and they were only doing it because of a recent discovery Jim had read about, regarding the influence of Andorian saliva on a rare plant found only on three uninhabited planets in the vicinity of the Orion system - Jim's interests tended to lean to the obscure these days).

'Do you need to have a “sex talk” with me, Jim?' Spock asked, eyebrow lifted as he looked up at the teen from the PADD.

'No, well. I know what goes where, but apparently, you're supposed to have The Talk with me. You know, that I need to use protection. That it's natural to have, ummm, urges. That girls don't get pregnant from kissing. Stuff,' Jim shrugged. He was slightly flushed, like he had a fever - but Spock knew to associate this with embarrassment.

'Since you obviously know those things, Jim, I see no need to repeat them to you,' the Vulcan said calmly. 'However, if you find you have additional questions about the topic you want me to answer, you are always welcome to ask. I will not withhold any kind of knowledge from you.'

'Thanks,  _A'nirih_ ,' Jim replied, and promptly returned to the article on the differences between male and female Andorians' livers he was analysing. He did not ask additional questions. Spock knew it was a matter of time. Jim was always looking for answers, and sometimes, quite formidably, he found them by himself. 

He even published three articles in the London Science periodical, under a pseudonym, of course, and after they had been thoroughly deconstructed and picked apart by Spock in search of faults and misconceptions. The Vulcan did not suppose the publisher would have accepted the texts if he knew they came from a fourteen-year old, no matter how intelligent and well-educated.

What the publisher did not know would not hurt him.

*

'I know about Humans. And Andorians, and Klingons, and shit, even Romulans,' Jim announced exactly three weeks, two days, seven hours and three minutes after he had initially breached the subject.

'Language, Jim,' Spock chided sternly. He did not tolerate cursing.

'Yeah, sorry. Anyway, you know. Romulans are kinda related to Vulcans, right? So I just generally assumed it's the same for them, but then I find out there's  _nothing_ on it for Vulcans. Like, not even in the Vulcan science books. There's some general biology, yeah, and your digestive system has like, a whole new science branch dedicated to it, probably because you eat grass,' Jim made a face at that and Spock did not correct him that negative, Vulcans did not eat grass... at least not every kind of grass. 'But there's nothing on sex! I mean. Umm. Yeah. How do Vulcans multiply? It's like nobody knows, not even Vulcans!' 

Spock found himself conflicted as much as amused. Trust Jim to ask the one question he is not supposed to know the answer to. On one hand, the Vulcan knew no off-worlders should possess this particular piece of knowledge, as it was something not talked about even between Vulcans until the Time was upon them. On the other hand, he made a vow to himself never to hide anything from Jim, unless the knowledge could influence his destiny even more than his sheer presence in the boy's life already had.

The choice was an obvious one, even if not entirely logical.

'It is indeed something the Vulcans are extremely secretive about. This is why, Jim, you must promise not to talk to anybody about it.'

'Oh, please. Who would I tell? I only ever speak to Chris, and I'm definitely not gonna talk to him about sex. Although that would be funny,' Jim grinned.

'Nevertheless, Jim, I must insist that you promise. Even if you do not thrive in the company of your fellow Humans now, you certainly will if you join Starfleet. I wish to be assured that this secret will not be shared with your peers now nor in the future,' Spock said.

'Okay, I promise, Mister Mysterious,' Jim teased. He was smiling warmly, but there was an anticipation in his eyes at the prospect of learning something that could not be found in any books.

'We call it Pon Farr, the Time of Mating,' Spock began.

If he found the fact of stunning Jim into silence satisfying, he did not let it show.

*

Jim's gift for his fifteenth birthday was the one thing he wanted the most - knowledge. After they came back from their customary walk (Spock had been wearing a new pair of gloves and a new hat), when they sat down in the kitchen with their respective cups of tea and cocoa, Spock turned to Jim and told him everything. He omitted nothing, not even his part in the death of George Kirk, the result of which was Jim's miserable life in Iowa for five years, abandoned and abused. He told him of the other Jim Kirk, his bondmate, his most beloved person, the man who he considered completely separate from the young, blue-eyed Jim Kirk. He told him of the selfish decision to adopt the child that reminded him of that which he had lost. He told him about his new bondmate on Vulcan, T'Lan, not as compatible with him as his Jim Kirk had been, but satisfyingly compatible for both of them. He told him about Nero, about Romulus, about the wormhole.

He asked for forgiveness, as illogical as it was.

' _A'nirih_ ,' Jim said, smiling, the glow he had once lost back in his eyes. Spock realized that it had been back for many months, many years, the horrors of Tarsus not quite forgotten, but locked away safely in the confines of his young, bright mind, surrounded by many much more pleasant memories. 'There is nothing to forgive. You saved my life,' the blue-eyed boy said, still smiling, before taking a sip of hot cocoa and turning to look out the window, where the first stars were visible on the evening sky. In due time, he was going to chart them all and live up to the legacy of his alternate universe's self - or more.

Ten years of having Jim as a son passed in what seemed to the Vulcan like the blink of an eye. He had made mistakes, like every parent, but in the end, he managed to bring up an exceptional person: a good, smart young man who had made him proud every day over the years. At this moment, Spock knew many more years were ahead of them. He found himself eagerly awaiting the future.

  
  


 


	2. Part Two: A friendship that will define you both.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At sixteen, Jim goes to San Francisco for a week at Pike's and he finally finds a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated quickly because it only needed minor corrections.  
> Warning: Lots of dubious science! Also some dubious history of Vulcan. But since it's an AU, I am (probably) allowed to do what I want.  
> Have fun ;)

**Part Two: A friendship that will define you both.**

  


They were playing chess, like every other evening, when Spock said:

'It is only logical that you stay with Christopher Pike in San Francisco, Jim. You trust him as much as I do, and you have wanted to visit the city, have you not?'

Jim pouted, aware that the expression wouldn't work on Spock. It had never worked, even when he was six, so there was no chance it would when he was sixteen. He still did it, though. It was worth giving a shot. Of course, his _A'nirih_ was unmovable when he wanted to be. He was also winning. Stubborn, insufferable Vulcan.

'I wanted to go to San Fran with you,' Jim muttered. 'So why can't I go to Vulcan with you? I know the language as fluently as they come, you taught me most of the official customs, I wouldn't embarrass you or anything,' he promised.

Spock still shook his head. 'The reason I am going to Vulcan without you, Jim, is simple: during these days, I cannot be close to you. It is of utmost importance that we are separated, otherwise, in the throes of the Fever, I could try to claim you as my bondmate to replace the man from my timeline, regardless of the fact that I already have a bondmate. The bond I had with my Jim Kirk was... extraordinarily strong and it might affect me more than I can predict. I cannot allow such a thing to happen. I cannot allow the familial bond between the two of us to become warped,' he explained softly. There was a fondness in his eyes, accompanied by an unusual nostalgia. Jim, for some reason, found himself feeling jealous.

'But what if I want it to happen?' He asked very, very softly, reaching for the Vulcan's hand uncertainly - shyly, even. Spock did not allow even for a brief touch, however - a sign that something was different than before. A shift in atmosphere. The Time. 'I love you, _A'nirih_ ,' the teen whispered, defeated. 'Why can't you accept me?'

'Why do you tempt me so?' Spock asked. 'Jim. You are mistaking familial affection for romantic inclination. You have been abandoned in your childhood and because of that, I appear to you as who you perceive to be the only person to care about you. But you are confused. You do not wish to enter into a marriage bond with me, Jim, and I do not wish for this form of attachment to you. This is not your destiny.'

'How do you know that?' Jim countered defiantly. 'You said it, _A'nirih_ : from the moment Nero's Romulans attacked USS Kelvin, nothing is familiar for you. Stuff happens and sometimes you recognize it from your timeline, sometimes you don't. Isn't that why you picked me up? Because you wanted to keep me safe in this universe that changed so much?'

'I acted on impulse at that time,' Spock said. 'I saw you, a little child crying in a deserted wasteland, and I decided to raise you like my own. Jim,' he sighed. 'I did not do it in order to condition you into loving me and becoming a replacement for my Jim Kirk. I did it to make sure the boy that lost a parent because of my failure could grow up and reach his true potential. During the process, I developed a parental attachment to you. I think of you as my son.'

' _A'nirih_ ,' Jim said, but Spock shook his head.

'You recognize the truth to my words just as well as I do, Jim. Even now, you still address me as your father,' the Vulcan said warmly. He moved his rook on the chess board. 'Checkmate.'

'… damn you,' Jim muttered. Vulcans sucked.

*

'Will you at least take me to Vulcan like, ever?' Jim asked when they came off the shuttle in San Francisco. From there, his _A'nirih_ would take his own ship - a little technological wonder called the _Jellyfish_ , which he kept a secret from the Starfleet, no doubt using his considerable political influence, because it was apparently far too advanced for this timeline - and go to Vulcan to meet his bondmate. Jim grimaced at the thought, but said nothing. 'Or off-planet, really. Anywhere. We've been across Europe and Asia like, three times already, and once in Australia. There's surely nothing as dangerous in space as Australia, right?'

'I find I have insufficient data to answer that question,' said Spock, who was obviously not allergic to three thirds of the substances on Earth and certainly not to all of the spiders in Australia, which made him that much less of an authority in terms of Australia's dangers. Seriously, Australia _crawled_ with spiders. 'However, to your previous question, Jim, I have an answer. I am indeed going to take you on a visit to Vulcan as soon as an opportunity arises.'

'Promise?' Jim asked, treating Spock to his biggest "puppy eyes". It most probably wouldn't work, but not for the lack of trying.

'Yes, Jim, it is a promise,' the Vulcan said warmly, much to Jim's surprise. Then: 'I believe this is where we part ways. I can see Christopher waiting for you. Do not fear, Number One is not accompanying him.'

Jim glared at him playfully. 'Well, I'll be going, then,' he said. 'Comm me as soon as you can.'

'I will, Jim,' Spock replied. Jim wanted to hug him, but didn't. Instead, he lifted his hand in a perfect _ta'al_ , then grabbed his bag and ran to meet Christopher Pike.

He was in good hands this time.

*

Number One was Pike's fiancée. She was as scary a woman as they come, but in a way, she reminded Jim of a Vulcan in that she was pretty stern, fiercely intelligent and only consumed vegetarian food. The first time she accompanied Pike to visit Spock and Jim was way back when Jim was twelve and obsessed with anatomy as only a child could be. If not for her, _A'nirih_ probably wouldn't have noticed Jim's unhealthy interest, which might have led to a very unfortunate end for the neighbours' cat. Fortunately, she was very adamant about teaching the boy what was morally right and what was morally wrong. Jim couldn't sit straight for a week, but he remembered that lesson well.

So did Spock, who had never punished Jim for anything, especially corporally, believing instead in letting the boy learn from his own mistakes.

(' _Well, the only one who'd suffer from this mistake would have been the cat, now wouldn't it? Stop complaining, Ambassador, because as far as I'm concerned, you deserve a good whack on the ass just as much as the kid._ ')

So, yeah, Number One was terrifying. Jim was glad Pike didn't take her along to greet him in the shuttlebay, or he might just have fled into a random shuttle away from San Fran. What was such a nice guy as Chris Pike doing with a woman such as Number One, anyway? Sure, she was kind of beautiful, in a cold, distant way, but her personality was horrible. And she drank _organic coffee_. What the hell was that, even?

'Welcome to San Fran, son,' Pike greeted him, putting a hand on his arm in a friendly gesture. 'Your _En'ahr'at_ left already?' He asked, looking around into the crowd.

_En'ahr'at_ . It was kind of Pike to use the Vulcan word, even though he barely spoke the language, for it was a title Spock wished to be known as in relation to Jim, a title he was registered under in all official documents regarding their family association. A godfather. A male member of family. It was more impersonal, in Jim's opinion, than _A'nirih_ , and it was okay, because he didn't want anyone else to call Spock that. The word was reserved for him. Something only he was allowed to call the elderly Vulcan, almost an endearment that meant a lot for both of them.

Also, it was logical to use the title instead of Spock's name, when there was another, younger Spock that belonged in this timeline, likely walking around somewhere in the universe. Of course, during the years spent on Earth and, at times, on Vulcan, Ambassador Spock developed an alias ( _Selek_ ; they called him Selek, which apparently was the name of a very distant cousin of Spock's. Jim started doubting the cousin's existence after his _A'nirih_ told him the story of when he had used that name before... he didn't inquire, though, because he knew his answer would be _Vulcans do not make facts up, Jim_ ), but Jim didn't feel the need to use it - Spock was Spock, at least until he met _the other one_ , if he was even going to meet him, ever. The Vulcan word was better, anyhow. A name was just a name. The title, well. It spoke of who his _A'nirih_ was to him.

_My family_.

'Yeah. He sends his regards. Hey, can I see the Academy?' Jim asked, brightening when they stepped outside. San Francisco was much like London in some ways, as in, it was also a big city; but as Jim surveyed the skyline, he surmised that the cities were actually nothing alike. Where in London, giant skyscrapers climbed up from the carpet of smaller, antique buildings, in San Francisco, they made up the whole panorama. It was much more modern, unlike London, where centuries old tradition still held much esteem. Jim loved London as much as he loved his countryside - but at that moment, he fell irrevocably in love with the novelty of San Francisco.

'We'll have you settled in your room first, okay? Then we can go sightseeing. I have the day off today, just for you,' Pike said, returning Jim's grin. 'We'll buy you a ticket for public transport. I know you won't be able to sit your ass at home when me and Number One are at work. Come on.'

They headed to a hoverbus, which surprised Jim: didn't Pike own a hovercar? He had been a Captain for years now, certainly he could afford it. The man must have noticed his bewildered expression, because he laughed and explained, 'Number One says it's more eco-friendly if we use public transport. Also makes sense because we're in space for the most part, so a car wouldn't be economical. Or something.'

'… or something,' Jim agreed. Yeah, it was logical. Spock would certainly approve. A sudden thought made his eyes widen. 'You don't only eat grass like Vulcans, right?' He asked, worried. He was so not going to suffer vegetarian food all the time. No way; while he was in San Fran, he intended to consume as much meat as he could.

It wasn't as though his _A'nirih_ didn't let him eat meat. Quite the contrary, he encouraged Jim to do so, because apparently, it was better, psychologically, for Humans to consume what appealed to their taste buds and moreover, Vulcans did not force their preferences on others; however, Jim didn't indulge often. He didn't want to appear insensitive or whatnot. He mostly ate meat if they went out for dinner, but that wasn't very often anymore. Not since Jim learned to cook.

He didn't want to offend Spock by storing meat - dead animals - in their fridge. It felt wrong. So he ate grass.

'Sorry, son, you're out of luck. Number One doesn't tolerate meat at home,' Pike said apologetically. 'But you know what? You can eat out as much as you like. She promised she won't preach about the _wrongness_ of it as long as you don't do it in her presence,' he smiled.

It was good enough, Jim supposed. Spock left him a pretty big allowance of credits, most probably trying to compensate for his illogical guilt at leaving him behind. Jim didn't complain.

*

Actually, they didn't see the Starfleet Academy on Jim's first day to San Francisco. They arrived at Pike's apartment, Jim was shown to his room (smaller than the one at home, but he didn't bring it up: he was a guest here. It was nice to feel welcome as a guest for a change), where he decided to lie down for a minute. Just to rest his eyes. Yeah.

Well, he woke up the next morning, disoriented as hell, but well-rested. No wonder; it was half past nine, and he never got up that late, even on weekends (especially since, after the first few years of living together, he and Spockdecided the only way they would honour weekends was by extending their chess matches at the cost of the evening lessons - this allowed for the matches to go on much longer and for both of them to employ elaborate strategies). The shuttle trip must have tired him more than he was aware. Oh well. There was a sandwich and a cup of coffee awaiting him on the kitchen table (vegetarian for the sandwich, organic for the coffee; he learned after the first sip that yes, it still tasted disgusting), and next to it, a key card and a piece of paper - a note from Pike.

_You slept like a baby, so I didn't have the heart to wake you (also, Number One thanks you for the whole day she had me to herself). Feel free to go sightseeing. I uploaded the communication ticket to your PADD, and a map with some good food spots. Have fun and come home for dinner, it's going to be spectacular - seriously!_

_-Chris_

Jim made a face at the supposed spectacularity of a vegetarian dinner, then headed for the shower. He was surprised when he saw it had a real water option (he had suspected Number One would not tolerate it, what with her eco-friendly lifestyle, but alas, he was wrong) and he used it without a second thought. He loved water showers. At home, they only had sonic, since his _A'nirih_ , as a Vulcan, was not exactly fond of being wet and installing a water-based addition to the system they already had seemed like a waste of time and credits. Jim used as much water showers as he could during their trips, though. If there was one thing he remembered with fondness about the Australia fiasco, it was the giant jacuzzi bath they had in their bathroom. He had spent many a nice hour submerged in the warm water, forgetting about the horrors awaiting him in the unfriendly territory.

Of course, that was before he noticed the equally giant tarantula, perched casually on the ceiling exactly above his head. That one was the last straw. He convinced Spock to end the excursion early immediately after, no matter how illogical it seemed to go home when their room was already paid for. He had never loved their calm and peaceful countryside as much as when they returned from Australia.

The shower was blissfully devoid of spiders and other creatures that could probably send Jim into anaphylactic shock with a single touch of their tiny, disgusting bodies, so he took his time, letting the warm water wash away every trouble he didn't actually even have. Then, when he was cleaner and prettier than ever (or at least he felt that way), he got dressed into simple jeans and a t-shirt (it said _Live long and rock'n'roll_ , which Jim suspected was more than intentional on his _A'nirih_ 's part when he bought it), brushed his teeth (because the shower made him forget to do that before), grabbed his PADD and set out to town.

He didn't have a clear goal in mind; he was just going to wander here and there, maybe watch some people, buy a burger... Make that three burgers. Still, it came as no surprise to him when he found himself staring at the entrance to the Starfleet Academy Library. Pike joked sometimes that he had a sixth sense that led him to books. Spock called it illogical, but Jim was sure he secretly agreed. No book, no matter what form it was in - paper or digital - or how well hidden, was safe from Jim. He could read a cooking book if he was left with nothing else and it was within his reach.

He actually had done that, twice. They helped inspire him to learn to cook.

The Library (the finding of which was not actually such a coincidence, now that he gave it more thought: in his haste to leave in the morning, he had forgotten to take the key-card, which prevented him from going back. Number One was not back from wherever she had gone to - and she must have left after Jim - so what he really needed to do was find Pike. Following this conclusion, he found his way to the campus of the Academy. It only made sense that he wandered straight to the Library) was an enormous building, surrounded by what looked like a Japanese garden, complete with ponds and a small bamboo forest. It had a set of wide, white stairs at its front, inviting students to sit and read or hang out with others on sunny days. For the first time, Jim felt he envied someone: what he would give to sit in front of the Library in his own cadet's uniform, reading a book on xenolinguistics or a script for some astrophysics course, waiting for a friend - someone who could actually keep up with what he was talking about, not like the kids from his neighbourhood, or the stuck-up snobs from London - to come up and ask how it was going...

A group of cadets pushed past him, shoving him aside forcefully; Jim tripped over a stair and fell, scraping his elbow. They didn't even look back, the bastards, so he quickly got back to his feet and followed them inside the building's hall.

'Hey!' He called after them. There was no reaction, so Jim ran up to the one that looked like the leader and tried again. 'Hey, you! You should watch where you're going, assholes!'

Thinking back, he had to admit it wasn't the smartest move, no matter how  cool it would look on a holovid action film. There was one of him and four of them, complete with the bulkiest guy of any species Jim had ever had the displeasure of meeting (and that included the gorilla he had seen in the London Zoo). And they didn't like him. He had just made sure of that.

'You said something, pretty face?' Their apparent leader - not the big one, Jim noted, which had the potential of being both a good and a bad thing - sneered at him, taking a step closer. Not as huge as the gorilla boy, but still bigger than Jim, this cadet had the worst breath like, ever. Jim had to force himself to remain on the spot, knowing that taking a step back would be regarded as a sign of fear. He was not scared. He just didn't want to die from the smell.

'Whoa, buddy, you should really consider brushing your teeth from time to time, or you know, like, ever,' he advised, scrunching his nose.

_Uh-huh, great going_ , he congratulated himself when the guy's face took on an interesting shade of red. Really, Jim was not used to interacting with Humans. He had no idea that a bit of honesty could incur their wrath like that.

_Keep lying to yourself, mate, although if I were you, I'd start running about now,_ said a helpful voice inside his head. It sounded like himself, but smarter. He heard it sometimes when he did something particularly stupid, like that one time when was thirteen and accidentally blew up the basement laboratory during a really important experiment involving sulphuric acid and more sulphuric acid. His _A'nirih_ looked equal parts irritated, terrified and amused when it happened. Also, they couldn't get the smell out of the walls for _months_.

The situation now was much, much worse, as it was not just the putrid smell he had to face (although that too), but also his own stupid babbling mouth and a perspective of losing a tooth or five.

'The fuck! You think I'm not gonna hurt you just because you're pretty?' Smelly Breath hissed and gestured at Gorilla Boy, who promptly grabbed Jim and pulled him from the main hall to a rather deserted room to the left - a coat room, if the sign on the door was anything to go by. This was not going well. Not well at all. Jim tried to break free of the Gorilla Boy's grip, but the guy was unfazed. It was like Jim wasn't struggling at all.

_Wonderful_ , he thought. _I'm gonna get beaten to a bloody pulp. Number One is gonna_ kill _me._

The guy to Smelly Breath's left (Jim dubbed him Humpback, because he had a visible hump and slouched even more than he sometimes did. What? Jim was not very creative in fields other than imaginative engineering and rather wild chemistry. And cooking) leered at him and Jim could sense it all going to hell rather quickly.

'You know, pretty boy? This room's kinda famous. When couples want to get down to business, but room-mates are obnoxious, they come here... because they won't be disturbed here,' Humpback said. 'The only thing they have to do is flip the card outside and _nobody_ will come in uninvited. You know what that means?'

Jim knew: Starfleet cadets were brilliant when they wanted to be. Also, he was in trouble, but well, he had known that already. 'Errr... maybe I'll just say how sorry I am and we forget this ever happened?'

The fourth of his oppressors - an Asian, so Jim's mind helpfully dubbed him Asian - laughed at that. He was, Jim noticed, pretty tall and well-built for an Asian. He was also rather pimply and definitely very drunk, now that he gave it a thought. Actually, they all smelled like half-digested beer. He knew that smell, even if he hated to remember it. Frank had always smelled like that. 'That's a good one, pretty boy. How about an alternative: you get down to your knees and show us how sorry you are... with your mouth?'

It was certainly not what Jim expected, because it sounded like a line from a very bad, prison-themed gay porn (not that he'd ever seen any of that, or if he had, he would just claim scientific curiosity), so his answer was a short: 'Huh?' right before he was pushed to the floor. But luckily for him, before things really got ugly, the door opened and a new person joined the party: a Vulcan, clad in the same red cadet's uniform as Jim's oppressors, with the typical Vulcan haircut, pointy ears and angry eyebrows.

He loved his _A'nirih_ , but he thought Vulcans looked kind of ridiculous.

'You will stop all improper behaviour towards this Human or your instructors will be notified,' the Vulcan announced. His high and mighty attitude probably didn't win him many friends, Jim decided. He also decided he almost felt sorry for the drunk bullies, because apparently, they didn't know what it meant to piss off a Vulcan - even though they had one on campus. He came to that conclusion when Humpback charged at the Vulcan with an angry yell of ' _What did you say?!_ ' Predictably, he was unconscious on the floor before the others as much as had a chance to blink. The nerve pinch thingy was amazing. _A'nirih_ said he'd teach it to Jim, but so far, there had never been an occasion. Jim decided he was going to learn it no matter what: to avoid situations such as this one in the future, of course.

'You will stop all improper behaviour towards this Human or your instructors will be notified,' the Vulcan repeated, unblinking. Jim observed as understanding made its way to the bullies' faces and got back to his feet when Gorilla Boy let go of him. He watched with satisfaction as they picked up their unconscious friend, Humpback, and ran for it.

Then, he smiled brightly (and probably somewhat stupidly) at his saviour.

'My name is Jim Kirk,' he said, standing up and forming his fingers into a perfect _ta'al_ in greeting. 'Thanks for the help, although I could have dealt with them myself.'

'Thanks are unnecessary, and I doubt it,' replied the Vulcan, returning the gesture. If he were surprised at Jim's knowledge of the custom, he certainly didn't show it. 'As to my name, I doubt you would be able to pronounce its entirety-'

'Try me,' Jim interrupted with a daring smirk. He loved challenges. He loved challenges he could easily win even more.

'Very well. My name is S'chn T'gai Spock,' the Vulcan offered with an air of arrogance, as though he was already certain of his victory.

'You're shitting me,' Jim exclaimed, eyes wide.

'Vulcans do not lie,' the Vulcan - Spock - chided him, clearly offended by his use of obscene language. 'I believe I have proven my point, Jim Kirk,' he concluded and turned to leave.

'No, wait,' Jim stopped him as they both entered the hall. 'S'chn T'gai Spock,' he repeated the name with perfect pronunciation and accent. It was the first Vulcan name he had ever learned, after all, and he had known how to correctly say its full form since he was seven. 'See? Anyway, thanks again. Ummm... Do you maybe know where Christopher Pike might be? I kind of need him.'

'I believe there is no reason for an individual not involved in Starfleet matters to breach Captain Pike's privacy during his leisure time. You may find him in the appointed classroom or in his office in the hours specified on the schedule available for public view in the main building,' said Spock, and he looked very unfriendly as he spoke. Like he thought Jim was a huge Australian spider.

'No, you don't get it. I have to meet him, he has to give me, um, the key-card,' Jim explained nervously. Shit. Here he was, in the Starfleet Academy Library, surrounded by dicks, perverts and an annoying Vulcan, who was supposedly the same person as his _A'nirih_ \- and he was really rather tired with the situation. Talk about a bad day. He just hoped Spock - or maybe it was time to learn to call him Selek - fared better on Vulcan.

Which he was doubtful about, to say the least.

'Why would Captain Pike need to give you a key-card? You do not appear to be related to him, nor did he mention anybody that might be looking for him when I spoke to him earlier today,' Spock the younger informed him.

'That's cute,' Jim said, rolling his eyes, 'but listen. I need that key-card. I really need it, okay? And since Pike's on break, it's even less... No, wait, I'm not someone suspicious, don't call the security-'

Too late. Two security guards were already heading their way. Jim braced himself for lots of explaining and a big argument, but it never came. Instead, all of a sudden, there was a hand on his shoulder. He tensed and turned in one swift move - only to be faced with Pike in person.

'Jim! What are you doing here, son? Has something happened? Ah, gentlemen, the situation is under control,' he assured the security guys. 'Mister Spock, did you just call security on Jim?'

'I believed him to be a suspicious individual,' Spock offered in explanation. Jim, whose trained eyes easily noticed the smallest signs of expression after eleven years around a Vulcan, a _Spock_ , was delighted to see a faint green flush adorning his features.

'He's fiercely protective,' Jim supplied with a grin. 'Didn't want me to disturb your peace with my hot bod. Anyway, now you're here - I kinda forgot the key-card before I went out. Um. Lend me yours? I swear I won't lose it or anything.'

'Jim, you could have just commed me. Or Number One,' Pike said in a teasing tone. Jim blushed when he realized he hadn't even thought about it. 'Oh, just come to my office, son. You too, Mister Spock - I have prepared those files you asked about.'

Jim couldn't help a little victorious smirk directed at the Vulcan when they followed Pike; it proved utterly unsatisfying, though, when it was met with a wall of blankness. He shrugged and devoted his attention to his surroundings now that he finally had a chance to do so.

In a few years, he was going to be a cadet here, after all. Might as well commit the place to his memory for later.

Pike's office was in the main building, on the second floor. It had a small, elegant plaque with his name on the door. The inside smelled of mint and some kind of tropical fruit - Jim faintly recognized the smell as something familiar. It might have smelled the same in Pike's kitchen. Maybe he had a fruit salad for lunch.

'Here's the key-card,' Pike said, handing Jim the small rectangular piece of plastic that he fished out from the drawer of his messy desk. 'You lose it, I will tell your _En'ahr'at_ ,' he spoke the Vulcan word with a noticeably bad accent, as always. It was especially bad when there was an actual Vulcan present in the room, lifting his eyebrow without as much as a comment.

'You do know he'll just say it's part of my charm if you do, right?' Jim asked, grinning.

'Yes. And then, he will volunteer you for a janitor's post here in the Academy for the whole summer, and he will make sure you're very closely supervised,' Pike countered. Jim blanched. The Captain had a point. 'Now. If the alarm is armed, it'll need the code. Punch in your date of birth in the stardate format and you're in.'

Jim nodded. 'It's totally not creepy that my birthday's your alarm code,' he joked. 'Um, should I do some shopping? You said dinner's gonna be awesome, but apart from that?'

'I think the word you're searching for is _spectacular_ ,' Pike corrected him, 'and no, no shopping is needed. Except for coffee. You need to buy your own, unless you like the weird organic stuff Number One is so fond of.'

Jim's shudder was answer enough. Pike laughed as he reached for a pile of documents.

'Now off you go, kid,' he said. 'Me and Mister Spock have some important Academy business to discuss. You tell Number One I'll be home on time or she can punish me however she wants,' he winked.

'Oh, gross!' Jim yelled and headed for the door to get away from the man's grin and the mental images it gave him. Then, he remembered something, paused, lifted his hand in a _ta'al_ to Spock, said 'Peace and long life,' and left, followed by Pike's laughter.

He found his way back without further adventures and he promised himself to forget about the more dangerous moments of the day, of what could have happened because he acted all stupid and rash.

If he couldn't sleep at night, it was because of mosquitoes biting him as though his blood was the tastiest delicacy this side of the galaxy, or maybe because he drank too much coffee, but certainly not because of any other reason.

*

'I hope it's faux leather,' Number One said darkly, narrowing her eyes when Jim headed for the door wearing his favourite jacket.

Jim just nodded dumbly and fled. God, she scared him.

He had no idea how hard she was laughing at him back at the apartment, and he would never know.

*

'Spock's coming for dinner,' Pike said and Jim choked on the not-organic, freshly brewed coffee he was sipping. It was his fourth day with the Captain and his fiancée and he was getting used to being able to drink the beverage only when Number One was not home. She didn't preach, he had to give her that; but the looks she was giving him, as though he was going to drop dead at any second due to caffeine consumption, made it hard to swallow anything. 'What? I have things to discuss with him. He's graduating this year and I'm kind of his mentor. Also, you could use some company from someone a bit closer to your age. I'm sure your _En'ahr'at_  would agree.'

'I don't think it's such a good idea,' Jim protested. 'That guy hates my guts and really, it doesn't help that he's who he is.'

'Jim, if you can't stomach sitting out a dinner with one Vulcan who doesn't like you, how do you think it'll go for you when the Ambassador takes you planetside with him?' Pike asked, amused. 'There, it'll be like the whole planet doesn't like you. And they'll be much more inclined to show it than Spock.'

'What, they're all judgemental bastards?' Jim huffed in disbelief. 'Great. Now you made me not want to go. I'm telling _A'nirih_ you were mean to me.'

'I'm sure you are,' Pike agreed. 'Anyway. Number One has classes until late afternoon today, which leaves the two of us in charge of preparing dinner. I hear you're quite the cook. Can I count on you? You might have figured out from Number One's complaining that I am a disaster in the kitchen.'

'As long as it's vegetarian, I can make it,' Jim boasted. Which was true. Mostly. Well, he couldn't do Vulcan food. He had tried, but it always turned out weird. Spock - Selek! - never hesitated to eat Jim's creations, but he also never hesitated to point out what was wrong each time. As long as it wasn't Vulcan, though, it was fine.

'Why don't you make something Vulcan, then?' Pike suggested cheerfully. 'Number One mentioned many times she wanted to try the _plomeek_ soup, but she never got around to actually making it. And she doesn't trust take-out food. Sometimes, I wonder if she's not paranoid, she apparently thinks vegetarian take-out doesn't exist and the whole Federation wants to force her into eating meat,' he trailed off, thoughtful. Jim sighed in resignation.

*

He ended up making _plomeek_ soup for dinner.

It turned out weird, but Spock ate it without a word of complaint. If he wished Jim a horrible death for subjecting him to the failed attempt at Vulcan food, he didn't let it show.

*

'I bet I can defeat you in chess,' Jim said much later, when Pike and Number One excused themselves to some _important business_ , leaving him alone with the stiff Vulcan. They sat in silence, each contemplating his own special spot of the wall, before Jim finally decided to break the impasse. Worst that could happen, he would be ignored.

Yet, a spark of interest showed itself in the Vulcan's face. Just for a fraction of a second. A different Human wouldn't notice it - but Jim knew how to look.

'Very well,' Spock agreed, neutral again, but the damage was done. 'I accept your challenge.'

Jim took out his regular chess set. He was insanely proud of it; it was a gift from _A'nirih_ for his sixteenth birthday. It was _ancient_ , made by hand out of real wood. He owned a 3D set as well, but it was not as impressive, and for some reason, he wanted to impress this young Spock.

He didn't know if he succeeded. It was always hard to tell with Vulcans.

'You can take white,' he allowed, setting up the black figures on his half of the board. Spock's eyes narrowed.

What followed was a game that went on for _hours._ Jim almost couldn't believe it, but his opponent was even better at chess than Selek, which made little sense, as they should literally be the same person. Perhaps more has changed in the universe than the Ambassador could predict. Or maybe a younger mind was sharper. It didn't matter; in the end, Jim managed to win, but only by a stroke of luck: where his strategy was failing, he saw an unexpected opening and exploited it, leading his knight to a spectacular checkmate that left both Spock and him awed.

Well, he wasn't so sure about Spock.

'You appear to be a formidable opponent, Jim Kirk,' the Vulcan admitted finally, looking straight at him. He no longer seemed to despise him. Apparently, the way to a Vulcan's heart was through a great defeat at chess.

'Thanks. You're an amazing player, Spock. You're even better than my _A'nirih_ ,' Jim replied with a grin.

'I have noticed both you and Captain Pike referring to a relative of yours in Vulcan. Would you care to offer an explanation? I do not understand the reason for this behaviour,' Spock said. It was as close to a Vulcan sticking his nose in other people's business as it gets, but Jim didn't take offence.

' _A'nirih_ is from Vulcan. His name is Selek, cousin of Ambassador Sarek from the House of Surak. He took me in when I was five,' he explained, his grin growing when Spock's eyes widened. 'He kinda taught me some Vulcan stuff. Like this,' he showed Spock the _ta'al_. 'It took me some time to learn, my fingers just refused to stick together.'

'I have done you great injustice in judging you prematurely, Jim Kirk,' Spock said softly. 'Had I known you were the son of Selek, my father's cousin, I would have refrained from forming an opinion before I gathered all necessary facts.'

'Hey now. First of all, just 'Jim' is enough. It feels stupid otherwise,' Jim informed him. 'And second: no offence taken, so don't worry about that stuff. As long as you let me continue to kick your ass in chess, it's all fine and good.'

'I am amenable to your suggestion,' Spock said, 'although I must remind you that as a Vulcan, I do not worry. I also admit I find your choice of words confusing, as I do not possess an adequate animal for you to kick. Additionally, it would be deemed as unnecessary cruelty to animals and as such would be frowned upon-'

'Oh, you know very well what I'm talking about,' Jim interrupted him. He could swear he saw the corners of Spock's mouth twitch in response. That was the moment he concluded Pike might have been right. He could use some interaction with this Spock.

*

After that, Spock made sure to find some time to spend with Jim every day. Once, three days later, they met up in the Academy Library where Spock was studying for his final exams. They didn't really talk; Jim became immediately engrossed in one of the books on Vulcan history Spock brought especially for him to read while the Vulcan busied himself with notes on xenolinguistics, since he apparently needed to revise that for an exam next week.

'I always wondered one thing,' Jim said, suddenly breaking the comfortable silence. He waited until he was sure he had Spock's attention before he continued: 'On Earth, well. We are now generally referred to as Humans or Terrans, right? But see, no matter where you look, you can see the remains of what we used to be, and that is: not united. We still have country borders, even though they're more symbolic than anything, and don't get me started on languages, and I guess we still remember the time when skin colour and gender dictated whether a person was a master or a slave. But even in pre-Surakian history, Vulcans seem to be one half-united race. Now how's that possible? Such homogeneity makes sense with planets who used to be colonies, but Vulcan had never been anyone's colony. So how come all Vulcans look basically the same and all follow the same philosophy, speak the same language? The books never explain it. I guess I should have asked _A'nirih_ , but I always forget.'

Spock took so long to reply that Jim stopped expecting an answer, so when he spoke, it was a surprise. A pleasant one. He had a pleasant voice. 'That bit of pre-Surakian history is not something Vulcans are proud of,' he said, thoughtful. 'However, as you are the son of Selek and not an outsider, you can be told. Long before emotionality drove ancient Vulcans to the great wars, we did not use to be united. Mind you, due to the specific climate that does not vary regardless of the location on the planet, Vulcans did not develop many element-specific civilizations and different tribes progressed at similar pace. You must know that Vulcans have developed warp capacity after the time of Surak, so the history I am speaking of is even more ancient than that, if you can imagine it so,' he paused. Jim nodded to prompt him to continue, so he did. 'Sources from that period imply that the tribes - which developed into separate desert countries over time - were aware of each other and maintained trading contacts. The societies were divided based on physical attributes such as eye and hair colour: the most visible differences, but not on skin colour. As you noticed, most Vulcans nowadays present similar phenotypes: this is a result of the actions of our ancestors. It is a general consensus that there used to be fair-haired, light-eyed Vulcans in the pre-Surakian times, but they did not survive to the transgression.'

'Well, they were probably less adjusted to the climate on Vulcan,' Jim hypothesized. Spock looked at him strangely.

'The reason there are no such looking Vulcans now is not found in the natural evolution of the species as much as in the culture of those civilizations,' he said. 'Because light hair and blue eyes were uncommon from the beginning and specimens with that phenotype were believed to be weak for precisely the reason you provided, they were not regarded as rightful members of societies; sources are not clear on this, but the general consensus between VSA historians is that fair-haired males and females served in all major tribes as,' he looked away from Jim, flushing a light shade of green in embarrassment, 'pleasure slaves.'

'Oh,' Jim said and blushed for no reason at all. Well, for no reason other than the fact that he had blond hair and blue eyes. Which of course was not relevant. Still, he blushed, because somehow, he was sure Spock was thinking the exact same thing. 'So. They weren't allowed to breed? Or were their genes recessive like with Humans?' He asked, still curious despite the discomfort.

'It is unclear,' Spock replied. 'It is all but a theory, based on the few written sources from that time that have survived the pre-Surakian wars. There are not many scientists who choose to devote themselves to studying the pre-ancient history. As I understand it, _they_ _see no point_ ,' there was definite distaste audible in Spock's tone as he said it, but his face showed nothing. 'Have I managed to satisfy your curiosity?'

'Yeah. Um, thanks,' Jim grinned at him. 'Sorry for interrupting your studies.'

'The apology is unnecessary, as no harm has been done. If you have further questions, do not hesitate to ask,' Spock offered. Jim had no other questions, though, he pretty much used up his intellectual potential for the day on _not imagining weird things concerning pleasure slaves_ , so they both returned to their own activities and spent a few more hours in companionable silence.

*

That night, Jim had a wet dream in which he served countless dark-haired, dark-eyed Vulcans as a pleasure slave; in the dream, they all looked like Spock, like this young version of Spock he had just met a few days ago. He remembered nothing of the dream in the morning. Number One didn't say a word when he asked for new bedsheets, blushing like the idiot he was (he wouldn't blush if she were _A'nirih_ instead, he told himself). He was grateful. She made him pay for that by feeding him a celery salad that gave him an itchy, red rash all over his arms and back.

Being allergic to the world sucked.

*

'You know, for a race that reached warp capacity quite recently, the Fillionts have made some impressive discoveries, especially in medical fields,' Jim said, looking up from yet another article and seeking out a discussion with Spock. He noticed the Vulcan had been staring at him when their eyes met for a second and then Spock looked away. He blinked, but didn't comment. Maybe Vulcans were just weird like that. (He knew they weren't; he chose to ignore what he knew.)

'It is a pity that their diplomacy is not as well-developed as their medicine,' Spock commented dryly, 'for the Federation could benefit from the knowledge the Fillionts are so keen on hiding.'

'Yeah, well, I think they're not actively trying to be difficult,' said Jim. 'Try looking at it from their point of view: you finally have the technology to reach the deep space, and then you learn there's this _huge_ organization out there that unites different planets, and it's been there for, like, centuries. That organization contacts you and says, ”hey there guys, so, we're offering you friendship if you give us your awesome medical stuff and promise your obedience. Otherwise, you deal with the big bad Klingons without our help”. Doesn't that sound a bit like blackmail? I dunno, I wouldn't be so sure if I wanted to be friendly with the big bully inter-planetary organization.'

'It is a fair point,' Spock agreed thoughtfully. 'I suppose to the Fillionts, it appears as though the Federation wants to take something from them and is offering nothing in return. Maybe action should be taken to find out what benefits the Fillionts could draw from the association with the Federation and an appropriate offer should be made.'

'Pesticides,' Jim said immediately. At Spock's questioning look, he went on: 'I read this situation report here,' he showed the Vulcan the text on his PADD. It was a Starfleet document available for public view. Most of them were. Even if they weren't, they were available to Jim, who could enter the Starfleet servers as he pleased without anyone being none the wiser - but Spock didn't need to know that. 'It is not a dire situation yet, but there is a parasitic fungus on Fillio that gives them a lot of trouble. It's similar to a fungus the Federation knows and has dealt with in the past, but the Fillionts have no way of fighting it: it appears immune to everything they have on the planet. For now, they're dealing by burning the affected crops, but it might not be enough, because the spores can survive high temperatures and are spread through rainwater. They destroy all kinds of crops, and it's especially hard since Fillio does not have a big variety of plant-life. Spock, I believe the whole planet is facing a threat of starvation within the next decade. There are reports of their _forests_ dying over the course of weeks. This is very serious and the Federation has an experimental pesticide that may be able to destroy the spores. I think that's what the Fillionts need. I think they'd give us access to their medical achievements if we gave them the pesticides in return. Actually, I think all they're waiting for is a helping hand in this matter.'

If he was too invested in this, if he was taking the starvation matter too personally, well. Nobody could blame him. Apparently, as he learned later, it started just as innocently on Tarsus. Some crops died, but it was okay, because they had many more. Then more crops died, and more, and it was still okay, because if food was rationed, everyone could safely survive until Starfleet came with supplies and pesticides. And then little Jim Kirk came to the colony and of course, it was the universal sign for things to go to hell.

'Your logic is sound,' Spock decided after a minute of silence. 'If you do not mind, I will share your opinion with Captain Pike. He is in charge of preparing a diplomatic mission to Fillio next month. I am sure he will find your input valuable.'

'I didn't know he was going off-planet so soon,' Jim muttered. 'He could have told me. But, yeah, well, I don't mind. I hope what I said can be helpful. Sometimes I can't tell if I'm not just spouting nonsense,' he grinned sheepishly.

Spock regarded him seriously. 'I have yet to hear you _spouting nonsense_ , Jim,' he said softly.

Jim decided that he was definitely blushing too much.

*

On Jim's fifth day in San Francisco, Spock invited him to a lecture about the great space discoveries of the past decade. Jim found himself struggling to decide what to wear before Number One called him a girl and offered to lend him a dress. Horrified by both the images of himself and Number one wearing a dress, he finally grabbed the first clean outfit he could get his hands on and just didn't think about it. He probably looked fine, even though the t-shirt was a bit tight over his chest; he was a growing guy and he wasn't getting fat, Number One, thank you very much - it was all muscle, because obviously, he was working out. And he indulged in martial arts training. With his _A'nirih_. And he had a gym in the basement of their house.

Next to the new lab, okay? He was not going to become a jock like those in the tween shows he sometimes watched when he was bored, all of a sudden.

Spock met him at the entrance to the Library, because apparently he was convinced Jim would get lost before finding the Great Auditory by himself. It was alright; Jim was convinced he would get lost before finding the Great Auditory by himself, too. When he saw Spock (wearing his standard uniform, since he came there straight from his classes), he grinned at him in greeting.

'Lead the way,' he said and followed the Vulcan to the lecture.

It was a good lecture. The lecturer had a good voice and a good attitude. He started by asking not to be interrupted, telling the listeners there would be a time for discussion after he was finished. Then he went on to explain what he believed were the most important deep space discoveries in the last ten years. As he talked, Jim found himself taking notes, listing things he wanted to ask about, writing down things he wanted to add because he disagreed or felt the need to explore further. At one point, he noticed Spock's approving look and he smiled at the Vulcan before he returned to his notes. And when the discussion period came about, boy, did he go crazy.

'Are there any questions?' The lecturer - Professor Captain Mbewe - asked the room. Multiple hands rose up, but Jim was in luck - he and Spock were sitting in the first row, clearly visible from the stage. 'Please, speak up, sir,' said Professor Mbewe, pointing at Jim.

With a grin, Jim nodded. 'Thank you, sir,' he looked over at his notes as he stood up. 'First, I need to say this: great lecture, really well planned,' he said sincerely. The Professor nodded in acknowledgement. 'There are however some points with which I cannot agree. Sir, you listed the discovery of the new element, _signonium_ , on Taros, the moon of the uninhabited planet Signa Delta near the Orion system as one of utmost importance. Now, I would normally agree with this, since the _signonium_ is indeed a very important discovery, but in light of Doctor Kenneth Sidder's research on he Alpha Gourian atmosphere, I can't,' he looked at the Professor. 'Doctor Sidder proved via a Federation-acknowledged experiment, that what was named the _signonium_ is actually a radioactive isotope of _alpagnian_ , the element deemed unique to Alpha Gouria. So while the discovery is very important, it is not because of the new element, but because it might be a proof that the universe itself is moving.'

There was a minute of silence, during which Jim expected the Professor to get angry or something; he didn't have much experience with Human teachers, but the books he'd read (and the tween dramas he'd watched, of course) provided him with an image of someone who very much didn't like being corrected.

Instead, Professor Captain Mbewe laughed good-naturedly. 'You must forgive me, ladies and gentlemen,' he addressed the audience. 'I've recently come back from an exploratory mission and haven't yet found the time to catch up with the newest research. This is very enlightening in more ways than one: I personally find it fascinating that the state of knowledge we possess is changing so rapidly. What was an in-debatable fact yesterday will prove to be a myth tomorrow. That's why science is so interesting,' he paused. 'Thank you for this update, young man. I haven't seen you here before. Are you one of my students?'

'Ah... no, sir. Ummm, I was invited here,' Jim replied, smiling uneasily now that all the attention was on him. 'My name's Jim Kirk,' he introduced himself. There was a faint noise behind him as the audience muttered something indiscernible, but otherwise, nothing weird happened.

'Very well, Mister Kirk. Now, what is it you're saying about the universe moving? I read that theory a few years ago, but I thought it was long disproved,' Mbewe encouraged.

Jim breathed in and looked at Spock. The Vulcan nodded, which probably was meant to convey reassurance, so Jim breathed out and replied: 'I encountered the theory for the first time three years ago, in the September issue of the Federation Science Magazine, in an article contributed by a Doctor Hopkins. Even back then, it was a tentative hypothesis at best, based on results of observation of the distances between planets from satellites. Of course, this was no basis for a real scientific theory, because all discrepancies between the gathered data and the official records could be explained by the irregularities in planet movements as per the Fionghan Thesis, or by something as simple as space winds. Either way, I'm sure nobody in the Federation took the theory seriously, until about half a year ago, when a new planet in the back of the T'sar system was discovered where there had previously been nothing.

'The Pletonia VII, as I'm sure we all know, is a scientific mystery. It's a class M, uninhabited planet that bears a striking resemblance to Vulcan, complete with the red sand deserts and a plant that appears to be disturbingly similar to the plomeek,' Jim paused when he heard some laughter behind him. 'Umm. This planet is visible from Earth right after midnight Greenwich time, which serves as further proof that it has not been there before, as it is not catalogued on any star map even back from the pre-warp times.'

'Excuse me, may I interrupt?' A female voice behind him spoke up. Jim turned around to see an Asian girl with blue hair standing up. Judging from her uniform, she was a Starfleet cadet.

'Yes, cadet Mori,' Professor Mbewe allowed.

'Thank you, Professor,' she nodded in gratitude and looked straight at Jim. 'Pletonia VII is a scientific wonder, yes, that much is evident. But the recent studies of Professors Kindler and T'Pok into the nature of the planet point to the black holes as the source of its sudden appearance in that sector of space. As evidenced by the exploratory mission of that area by USS Bjoel in 2238, there has been a grand total of sixteen black holes in the T'sar system, and at least one of them has disappeared since the planet's discovery.'

'Yes, that's one theory,' Jim agreed. 'But it doesn't explain everything. Pletonia VII is not a newly formed planet, I'm sure we can all agree on that. It's got mountain formations evaluated at six million Terran years, so it's really not worth discussing. It's perfectly possible that the planet has been transported from a different location by a wormhole, at least according to Professor Kindler's hypothesis on vortexes in space and time. The thing is, the black hole you're talking about has not disappeared at all. It is still there, but it's been moving towards the remaining black holes by the edge of our space maps. No, please, I'm not fantasizing,' Jim raised his voice slightly when somebody snickered in the far back.

'Jim Kirk is right,' Spock interjected. As if on cue, absolute silence fell. Jim blinked.

'Um, thanks,' he muttered. Spock didn't reply. Instead, he stood up as well.

'Pletonia VII has been the subject of very thorough study by the Vulcan Science Academy and its scholars since the moment of its discovery,' he said. Jim couldn't help but notice how everyone, even Professor Mbewe, seemed to devour every word from his lips. For some reason, he felt even more nervous now. 'The black holes surrounding the planet have been monitored closely to estimate the potential danger they could pose in the event of Pletonia VII's colonization. Elders Sonak and T'Song have documented the observed route of the aforementioned black hole as it covered the distance from the immediate vicinity of the planet's gravitational pull towards the cluster of black holes at the edge of Sector Y, which we have never managed to breach before. It has to be noted that the cluster itself has moved as well, and the edge is now located over two hundred thousand kilometres further than before the planet's appearance.'

'So the least that we can prove is, the universe is growing while we had been so sure it was decreasing in size,' Jim interjected. Spock didn't seem to mind the interruption.

'Exactly. However, Pletonia VII is not the only unexplained mystery in space. At roughly the same time as the planet appeared, the USS Singh collided with a planet that, according to the computers' navigation systems, was located exactly two hundred eleven thousand kilometres away and thus, not in the collision course. There were unfortunately no survivors, so we cannot correctly assess whether this was a machine malfunction or something else. It does, however, strike me, as well as many other scientists, as a rather curious coincidence when the case of Pletonia VII is taken into account.'

'You're both crazy,' Cadet Mori decided.

'No, you see, this is where it all makes sense: Taros, the moon of Signa Delta in the Orion system, Alpha Gouri in the T'sar system - funny how it all comes to the T'sar system in the end, eh? - two celestial bodies _very_ far away from each other, with completely different climate and structure. One is inhabitable, the other is not. But there is an element on one of them which, in a different form, can be also found on the other. And if you look closely at Taros, you may notice one very amazing thing,' Jim paused for effect. He was met with blank looks. 'Aww. Okay. Taros is actually not a moon at all. It's a planetoid. Its vaguely elliptical shape is caused by rapid movement around its own orbit - I mean, scientists report to feeling vaguely nauseated just standing on the surface in protective wear. In other words, Taros is a piece of a bigger planet, wrapped closely in space trash and posing as a moon. Now, if we consider the theory of the moving universe as it was formed by John Thomas Kripke in the January issue of the London Science periodical, we can explain the presence of the same, extremely rare element on two celestial bodies located light years away from each other: the universe as we know it moves at a given speed and a given time, in the same specified direction; the stable celestial bodies - like planets and stars - are not affected by the movements, but starships outside of warp speed - or planetoids, and black holes for some reason - are. That's why the USS Singh collided with the planet's surface and why Taros has the Alpha Gourian element. Also why the Pletonia VII was not discovered before. Because you see, the universe moves - and incorporates stuff that used to be beyond it.'

And that was when the uproar drowned out anything else he might have wanted to say.

*

Spock walked him back to Pike's apartment and didn't speak up even as Jim complained about closeted minds during the whole way back. But when they were about to part ways, the Vulcan looked at Jim in what appeared to be amusement, and said:

'Your logic is sound,' and then, when Jim was about to thank him: 'Good night, Mister Kripke.'

And he headed back, leaving Jim light-headed, wondering how the hell he was found out.

*

On the seventh day, Selek commed him.

'I will be returning soon,' he announced.

'That's amazing!' Jim assured him, and he meant it, even though he was quite certain he was going to miss Spock. Maybe a lot. 'I hope you bring me something nice. _Not_ food.'

He knew his _A'nirih_ was smiling, but he didn't say anything, because it would only earn him another lecture of _Vulcans do not show emotion_ . Damn, but he missed the elderly Vulcan. Spock was fun and his chess skills were crazy, seriously, but _A'nirih_ was... well, _A'nirih_. He was irreplaceable. And so much wiser than Spock. He knew so much more about the universe, and he shared knowledge, even if he did not relay any of his personal experiences from the timeline he belonged to.

'Have you been behaving appropriately?' Selekasked. He appeared amused.

'Well, _obviously_ . I'm a good kid, you know. And Chris just _loves me_. Number One is jealous of our epic romance and threatens to beat me up with a plomeek almost daily, though,' Jim joked. 'No, but seriously. I'm good. I even met the young you. This timeline's Spock. He's better at you in regular chess, but I bet you'd beat him in 3D.'

'Fascinating,' Selek said. 'Of course, he is not aware of my true identity?'

'Nope. Who do you think I am, an idiot?' Jim huffed.

'No, Jim. I would never think you an idiot,' the elderly Vulcan promised seriously.

'I hope so. No, he only knows you as Selek, his father's weirdo cousin living on Earth,' Jim explained. 'He's taking me to his year's graduation party tonight. He didn't want to go at all, but I said I'd never been to a real party before, so we're making it a research. You know, I'm just as ignorant about Humans' party behaviour as he is,' he laughed.

'I presume Christopher and Number One are aware of this?' His _A'nirih_ asked. If Jim didn't imagine it, there was a hint of worry in his voice. Maybe he wasn't fully recovered yet.

'Of course they are. They said as long as I'm within two metres of Spock, I'm allowed to participate. No alcohol, no drugs, no showing off or getting into fights. Don't worry, I'm not going to go wild or something,' Jim assured him. The last thing he needed was the Vulcan calling Pike and making him change his mind or something, although he doubted it would come to this. Selek trusted him. With good reason, too, because Jim could be responsible if he wanted to.

'I know, Jim. I will see you soon,' Selek promised and ended the transmission.

*

The party was not such a great idea after all.

*

'I'm actually not sure if I'm more disappointed in you or in Spock,' Pike informed Jim in the morning, not bothering to lower his voice when Jim winced. The headache was _killing_ him and he didn't remember most of what happened last night. 'You were supposed to be a responsible young man, not a stupid kid that goes crazy at the sight of alcohol. Would you care to explain what happened?'

'I'm not sure,' Jim muttered, realizing his throat was dry like a Vulcan desert. 'Just, I lost sight of Spock and then I got real thirsty, so I bought a drink. I swear I didn't know it was alcoholic! I even asked the guy at the bar, but he said it was good stuff, so I just downed it like it was water. I think I burned my throat irrevocably,' he confessed hoarsely. 'Then I found Spock and I think he or I said something really offensive, because next thing I know, he left and I went back home alone. Really, Chris,' he looked straight at Pike. 'You're overreacting. I drank some alcohol, big deal. I safely got home and nothing happened.'

'Have you looked into the mirror?' Number One asked out of the blue. Jim frowned at her.

'What? Why?'

'You've got a giant hickey on your collarbone, Casanova. And a bite mark on your neck. Also, you look as though you've been making out with someone all night,' the woman smirked when Jim looked at her with wide, disbelieving eyes. 'No, I'm not joking. Now, Jim, I'm far from preaching to you about disappointment and responsibility and stuff,' she winked at Pike, who scowled and left the kitchen, obviously taking the hint. 'But you must concentrate and tell me: did someone take advantage of you when you were drunk? Or you of someone, for that matter?'

Jim concentrated as much as he could when his head was trying to burst into a thousand pieces. Images from the previous night flooded his head; dancing people, the awful taste of the alcohol burning him on the way down his throat, Spock staring at him with those dark, emotionless eyes and then _kissing him_ like the world was ending, all bruising lips and wandering hands.

His eyes widened and he made an embarrassing noise. Number One had mercy on him and didn't comment, but the amusement on her face was enough to assure Jim that she would never forget this moment and she would not hesitate to blackmail him with it in the future.

'Spock,' he said in a small voice. 'I think, um, I think we kissed. Don't tell anyone? Please?' He all but begged. ' _A'nirih_ is coming back and seriously, he can't know.' Okay, he was panicking. Great.

'Calm down,' Number One ordered him. Jim listened out of instinct. This was the same tone she had used when she explained to him why cutting open a cat was _so not_ a good idea. 'Your secret is safe with me. Now go to your room and start packing your stuff. I'll try to convince Chris to get something for your hangover.'

Jim obeyed.

*

The first night back at home, he couldn't sleep. He told himself it was because of the time difference, but it was an obvious lie. When he finally did fall asleep, he dreamt of Tarsus IV for the first time in his life.

In the dream, his _A'nirih_ didn't come to get him when he did.

*

'I don't want to join Starfleet after all,' Jim announced a few days later, when they were chopping up onions to make fried onion rings. Jim loved those. Actually, he thought all vegetables tasted better deep fried, even the freaking _plomeek_. 'I gave it some thought and I just don't think it's for me, really.'

'What is it that you do want to do?' Selek asked, raising an eyebrow. It was the only sign of surprise he showed.

'I don't really know. There's just so many things I could do, you know? Like, I could totally be an engineer. Remember how I built that motorbike last year? I could do even better,' Jim replied, grinning. He hoped it looked more confident than he felt.

'I do not doubt it. You are still very young, Jim. You will find your path when you are ready,' the Vulcan concluded, placing the onions into the frying pan. 'There is still much I can teach you before that time comes,' he added, giving the teen a look full of warmth. For a Vulcan, he showed a lot of emotion. Jim was glad for that: there were moments when he found it very reassuring. Like now.

*

He was seventeen when he took a valuation exam in Oxford, just to finally assess his academic level. The exam was custom-prepared for him under the instructions from his _A'nirih_ , and it was supposed to test if he was ready to join the regular curriculum of a real University - if his home-schooling prepared him for the entrance exams.

He spent eight hours writing equations, analysing science articles, translating xenolinguistic texts, decomposing famous literature to explain its meaning and importance, even talking about history of the Federation and why he thought it was important to pursue the knowledge about the past in the world that was all about going forward during the only oral part of the exam - and then in the evening, he was free to go. Selek awaited him in the hotel with cocoa and everything was changing, yes, but one thing would never change: they were still family.

Jim aced the exam at one hundred sixteen per cent, exceeding all expectations sans Selek's (' _I was certain you would perform to the best of your ability, Jim. This score only reflects what I already knew._ '). Suddenly, Jim was perceived as a genius and it seemed everyone out there in the academic world knew about his existence and wanted him to apply.

In the end, he chose Engineering in the University of London. His reasons were, well. It was close to home and he wouldn't have to move out. Also, they easily offered him a job at the campus and he wasn't about to say no to some credits.

It felt bad to still be financially dependent on Selek and give nothing back. His _A'nirih_ didn't protest when Jim told him, but admitted to being proud of him. Not because of the credits - they had enough of those without additional income - but because of the fact that Jim was growing up into a responsible adult.

So starting with the new academic year, Jim entered the University.

*

'You know, I expected it to be slightly more challenging,' Jim said, looking up from the dissertation he was reading on the development of steam engines on Gian VI, a recently discovered planet that managed to reach warp capacity while still being at the cultural level of Victorian England. It was apparently because of the military structure of the Gian civilization; the army conducted all kinds of science experiments and admitted some to public use while others were kept hidden from the society in order to maintain peace.

Jim had to admit, the Gians seemed to be quite a happy people. Their last war had been six centuries ago and killed over half of their population, which was why the military control first started: to prevent them from killing each other senselessly. Six hundred years later and the army still existed, but it was more of a scientific organization than anything else. And the people had steam engines. Steam engines capable of moving their houses across continents, because they liked to move around a lot.

It was fascinating.

'You have never shown any difficulties in acquiring knowledge,' Selek replied, pondering on a move on the chessboard. He had many options, but all of them would lead to a checkmate for Jim in less than ten moves unless the Vulcan did something unexpected. Even then, Jim would end up a winner, but maybe in sixteen moves instead.

'Yeah, but I hoped it would be harder. Sometimes, I wish I could go to the Vulcan Science Academy. _That_ would be a challenge,' Jim grinned. 'They have this amazing seminar on computer science, on its influence on the psychology of the species that rely on artificial intelligence. I downloaded some reading from that seminar, but damn, I bet the professor doesn't share all he knows outside the seminar.'

'VSA courses are strictly classified, Jim, and their content is not available to off-worlders. Did you hack into their servers?' Asked Selek, rising an eyebrow.

'Ummm. They never noticed? They should tighten their security if they don't want their files to get stolen, you know,' Jim said in defence. 'Also, I don't get it. Aren't Vulcans supposed to be all like, limiting access to knowledge is very bad? Or is that only valid when it applies to them?'

'Vulcans have many positive attributes,' his _A'nirih_ explained in amusement. 'The inclination to share their toys does not appear to be one of them.'

'… Okay, you just basically confirmed that Vulcans are selfish bastards with a superiority complex,' Jim concluded with a smirk.

'I said no such thing,' Selek countered. 'It is you who have drawn such a conclusion from my statement. I will not, however, deny the truthfulness of your conclusion.'

Jim laughed at that. Selek made a more unexpected move than the moves Jim had predicted as unexpected, sacrificing his rook without any logical purpose.

In the end, Jim lost the game after all.

*

He dropped out from the University on his second year. It was a waste of time, all of it. Yeah, the professors were kind of smart and he finally could talk all he wanted about obscure subjects (like the engines on Gian or the lunar energy used in some regions of Xinct X, a planet near the neutral zone) to a larger audience, but it simply didn't compute. And other students were obnoxious.

No, really. He had to suffer through lunch periods and free periods, during which he was being all but assaulted by giggling girls or over-confident guys. It had been fun at the beginning, because seriously, he never knew he was physically attractive (who was supposed to tell him? His _A'nirih_? He was a Vulcan, he probably didn't know what it meant to compliment someone on his looks - and well, wasn't physical appearance of no consequence for Vulcans?) and the sudden attention was flattering. But he grew bored quickly and really, he wasn't there at the university to look for a mate or something. He was trying to learn new stuff.

It was hard when the librarian threatened to get him banned from the library just because crowds of people followed him there and made noise.

'I don't get it. They're all acting as though I was an Orion girl with all those pheromones!' He told Selek one winter evening over his cocoa. It had a small helping of rum to warm him up more efficiently and lull him to sleep. He had had some trouble sleeping lately for one reason or another.

'You are a very aesthetically pleasing specimen of a Human, Jim,' Selek informed him. 'Also, many people are drawn to you because of your mind. You are the youngest student at your University, but you are also the brightest.'

'Yeah, well,' Jim muttered, embarrassed. Okay, so Vulcans _did_ know how to compliment someone without implying they looked like ancient pleasure slaves.

_Wait. Where did that come from?_

'Aaaanyway, I think I changed my mind,' he said, shaking his head to clear it. He was too sleepy for his own good. 'I think I'll just withdraw my papers and find something else. I could try xenobiology, or maybe Maths, or computer science, actually, that seems like a good idea. Or I could always go with xenolinguistics, I hear being an interpreter pays off great.'

'I will always support you, Jim,' Selek said. The _no matter how illogical you are_ part went unsaid, but Jim still saw it in his eyes.

*

He transferred from Engineering to Xenolinguistics, then to Computer Sciences and finally to Maths. It always took less than two months before he gave up, and the attention from his peers was not a minor factor in his decisions.

It just felt wrong, on some level, to be courted by other people. Something inside him twisted at the idea, making him physically sick when he as much as thought about himself with girls or guys alike. It was exhausting, really; he was eighteen and he was still a virgin, and masturbating to pictures and mental images of girls with big boobs made him want to throw up more than get off. It wasn't because he was gay or anything; he checked. Same thing happened with pictures of handsome guys. He got hard, he touched himself and then was thrown out of it by an overwhelming wave of nausea.

At least he got off when he was asleep, it seemed. He never remembered the dreams he was having (which, shit, he could use remembering, at least then he'd know what really turned him on), but he woke up to sticky sheets so often, he started doing his own laundry - which, as he then thought about it, was long overdue. He was almost an adult now, he had to start doing some things about the house instead of letting Selekdo everything while he loitered around

*

Sometimes, when Selek was meditating in front of the fireplace and Jim was reading something or other, the peace and quiet felt suffocating and Jim longed for a different Vulcan; younger, inspiring, passionate. Then, he looked guiltily at his _A'nirih_ 's still form and reminded himself that no friendship could ever come close to what he shared with his father.

It still happened, sometimes, and no matter how guilty he felt, Jim couldn't stop thinking about the young Spock he had met once in San Francisco.

*

Jim took the Starfleet entry exams later than anybody expected: at nineteen years old, right after he took an epic beating in a bar in Riverside, Iowa. He wasn't even supposed to be there; but Winona was back from another deep space mission and Jim took the opportunity to visit her. He didn't predict the visit would shake him up as much as it did, but he supposed it must have been the same for her. Or something.

Apparently, he looked almost exactly like his father, which was enough to send Winona down the memory lane. The way she looked at him when she remembered George Kirk was actually dead reminded him of a similar event, back when he was five years old and his mother left him with with her abusive husband. He was almost an adult now and she couldn't hurt him anymore, because he had people who cared about him and wouldn't abandon him like she had. He had his _A'nirih_ , he had Captain Pike and he had Number One.

Still, it hurt.

He wondered later how Pike knew he was in the bar, trying to get drunk illegally. Perhaps Winona felt guilty and told him. Perhaps it was a coincidence. Still, fact remained that Pike found him, sat him upright, hit him across the head to discipline him as he would do a stubborn kid and got him to reassess his goals. Jim commed Selek that night, telling him he was fine and not to worry.

'I'm joining Starfleet,' he announced, a hint of disbelief lacing his voice. 'Gonna take the shuttle tomorrow.'

'Wise decision,' his _A'nirih_ said. And so, Jim knew it was going to work out.

He took the shuttle the next morning and let destiny dictate his path for once.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third chapter will be up by Friday, May 30th. It will also be centered around Jim, but Spock Prime will have a very important role in it.  
> The fourth chapter will be posted a week later and will be from Spock Prime's point of view.


	3. Part Three: When I feel friendship for you, I am ashamed.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim deals with Nero and the destruction of Vulcan, Spock deals with his feelings, Selek deals with everything else like a pro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: potentially dubious consent; more dubious science; seriously bad writing of any action scenes and scenes involving more than two characters at once.

**Part Three:** **When I feel friendship for you, I am ashamed.**

  
  


' _Bones_. Bones, save me,' Jim begged as he hid behind his friend in the great hall of the Starfleet Academy Library, the place he frequented on bi-weekly basis if not more often. Bones - or actually Doctor Leonard McCoy, Jim's unfortunate room-mate - looked at him as though he were crazy, which was the usual way he looked at Jim.

'What have you done this time, kid?' He asked, although he didn't really want to know, Jim could tell. He knew how to distinguish whether McCoy wanted to be told something or not. Like, really. After almost three years of living in the same room, they were greatly attuned to each other's needs.

Or something.

'He's seriously stalking me,' Jim confessed. 'He probably wants to expose my cheating ways to the whole world to see, even though I've never cheated on a test in my life,' he complained. Then he blew some air into Bones' ear.

'What the fuck!' Bones yelled and turned to hit him across the head. 'Dammit Jim, what's wrong with you? First you piss off a Vulcan instructor _you_ _don't even have classes with_ , then you fail the Kobayashi Maru _twice_ and now what?'

'Ummm, I'm taking the Maru again,' Jim said under his breath. 'What?' He got all defensive at the other man's incredulous look. 'I'm gonna pass it this time, Bones. With flying colours. You're all gonna love my solution.'

'Yeah. Sure,' Bones muttered. 'Listen, kid, I can't always get you out of trouble. Your allergies, yeah, I can help with that, although honestly, I've never seen a Human be allergic to two thirds of his own planet-'

'Can't help it, born in space,' Jim interjected and was awarded with a glare.

'-but if you do something really stupid - and I know you will, I can see it in your stupidly blue eyes - nobody will be able to get you out of this. Even your influential Vulcan daddy,' Bones finished.

Jim wondered how he managed to land himself with a worry-wart mother hen, complete with the most ridiculous southern accent ever, as a room-mate and best friend.

They met in the shuttle from Iowa; Bones threw up on him, told him the story of his life (which sucked, by the way) and they had been damn near inseparable since then, even though they only had _one_ class together during those three years. It was ridiculous how the various tracks didn't overlap at all; in the Command track, Jim had some classes with future engineers, some with the scientists, one or two courses with the security guys and at least seven with none of the other tracks. After the first semester, he started being kind of grateful he didn't have even more classes in his schedule.

As he had decided to compress four years worth of higher education into a three-year curriculum, he barely had any spare time to read a book - especially since he decided to sign up for some extra-curricular activities, including the chess club and the xenolinguistics club (he even became the treasurer for the latter before he had to resign and withdraw from the club altogether due to lack of time). He had never before felt so challenged as he did in the Academy, where each and every course demanded his full attention and hours of additional research to satisfy his curiosity and his drive to be on the top.

Bones had been with him through the sleepless nights before the finals, using him as a Guinea pig for various vitamin concoctions administered with needlessly painful hypos. He had kept Jim awake when no amounts of coffee could prevent his eyelids from closing and he had kept Jim asleep when the exams were over, but his body was too used to the hellish pace and couldn't adjust to a slower rhythm. He was the one who discovered more of Jim's allergies than he thought a single person could have, and compiled a list that took an honourable place on the door inside their room ( _A'nirih_ was unnecessarily, very much un-fatherly amused by this one when Jim told him, and no amount of _Vulcans do not get amused_ could convince Jim otherwise).

In short, Bones was his first real friend, and even if he was an insufferable jerk sometimes, he was Jim's jerk, and he had a heart of gold anyways.

'Cadet Kirk,' he heard from behind him and turned around. It was Gaila, the Orion girl from his Computer Science class; he was pretty sure she had a crush on him, judging from the sheer amount of pheromones she appeared to be releasing in his presence. Jim, well. It wasn't as though he really wasn't interested. Everyone would be. But he had never slept with anyone before.

He couldn't even imagine sleeping with someone without feeling sick to the stomach.

'Yeah?' He grinned at Gaila, because despite her crush and his big, big libido-related problem, he really liked her. She helped him with an Orion dissertation he was trying to analyse once (the language was much more complex than any other he had been familiar with and the way Orions sometimes used pronouns made his head spin) and since then, Jim considered her a valuable friend. Maybe there was some Vulcan in him, after all: studying together certainly seemed like the best way into his heart.

'Captain Pike wanted to see you in his office after the third period,' she related, returning his grin. 'It's about the Maru.'

'Ah, yeah. I'm taking it again,' Jim explained. 'How was your Botany exam? You mentioned it yesterday.'

'It was hell,' Gaila replied in a light tone. 'I probably failed it. No worries; Gary Mitchell agreed to tutor me, so I'm going to pass on second attempt.'

'Probably,' Jim agreed thoughtfully. He remembered Gary Mitchell from London many years back. Gary Mitchell remembered him as well. Surprisingly, this time around, there was no animosity between them at all. Both of them have grown up, apparently. 'Mitchell's good. Bones, where do you think you're going?' He glared at the good doctor, who was heading off and away.

'To class, dickhead. Some of us can't wiggle out of trouble with the instructors just by flashing some baby blues,' Bones replied gruffly, making Jim laugh.

'No, you're right, gotta go too,' he agreed. 'See you around, Gaila,' he addressed the Orion girl and then ran upstairs to his Tactics class.

He loved his life in the Academy. He really did. Most of the time.

*

'So, I'm taking the Kobayashi Maru for the third time next week,' Jim said when he exchanged his greetings with Selek over the holovid conference. He made sure to make time for those conferences once a week. Really, he was hardly a kid anymore, but he missed home, and he missed his _A'nirih_. 'Probably right when you're going to Vulcan for your lecture,' he grinned.

After he entered the Starfleet Academy, Selek applied for a spot at the VSA. Now, for two weeks a month, he taught young Vulcans the delicate subject of Xenopsychology, which would eventually serve to further understand the various alien life forms the Federation strived to get to know. Jim was proud of his _A'nirih_ and jealous of his students, but he supposed the things he was learning in the Starfleet Academy were just as important.

'Christopher notified me,'Selek said, definitely amused.

'Hey. That's not fair. What if I wanted to make it a surprise?' Jim asked with a pout.

Selek, as always, was not impressed. 'Vulcans do not appreciate surprises, Jim, as they are not fond of what they could not foresee. They believe it comes from a lack of foresight on their part.'

'Yeah, well. Humans love being pleasantly surprised,' Jim countered.

'And you assume that your third attempt to beat the Kobayashi Maru test is a pleasant event?' Asked his  _A'nirih_ , rising an eyebrow. 'Interesting.'

'Of course it's pleasant,' Jim said, impatient. 'Third time's the charm, right? I'm so gonna kick some Klingon ass. But, more importantly,' he grinned again. 'You said I can go with you to Vulcan next month, remember?'

'Yes, Jim. Vulcans possess an eidetic memory and are unlikely to forget their promises,' Selek said dryly. 'I have been making arrangements for your stay. Next month is the most appropriate time, as the temperatures will be lower than average during those days and it will be easier for you to function in such circumstances.'

'Yeah. Thanks,' Jim said, hoping to convey all his gratitude in a smile. He gathered he succeeded from a slight softening of Selek's features. 'I swear I don't know why I want to go and be exposed to even more Vulcans, though.'

'Is a Vulcan troubling you?' Selek asked.

'Yeah. Spock. The younger one,' Jim replied and sighed. 'He's freaking ridiculous. I don't even have any classes with him, but he just keeps stalking me around the halls and picking at me from day one. I swear, he's obsessed or something. He either follows me or sends his girlfriend after me, and that's even worse.'

'Girlfriend?' Selek questioned. Both his eyebrows rose into his hairline. 'Fascinating.'

'No, it's not. She's not really his girlfriend, just a student. And a friend, I guess. Uhura. She's nice when she's not trying to prove I'm stupid, actually,' Jim paused, thoughtful. 'We even discussed some stuff about the Regulan dialects of the Romulan language and how they were influenced by pre-Surakian Vulcan, and she didn't call me an idiot even once then. She's smart. If I get a ship any time soon, I want her to be my Communications Officer. Bones can be my doctor, I mean, it's not like he'll let me go into space on my own, not when I could be allergic to two thirds of it as well. Oh, and Gaila can be the computer specialist,' he paused as he imagined being subjected to the pheromones on a daily basis when out in space. He blanched. 'Or not,' he decided. 'Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. Hey,  _A'nirih_ , do you think I'll be able to attend a lecture or two in the VSA when I'm on Vulcan? Pretty please?' 

'I will see what can be arranged,' Selek said. 'It is not an easy task to accomplish, Jim. Vulcans are not partial to off-worlders breaching their secrets, even off-worlders as intellectually outstanding as yourself. It is not, however, impossible. I have conveyed your wish to the Council and they are to debate on it on the nearest seating. I assume I will learn the answer during my stay next week.'

'Awesome,' Jim grinned. 'Can you grab me the newest issue of the VSA periodical while you're there? It's damn near impossible to find it in San Fran. I think Spock's little fanclub snatches the whole batch to hang around the halls and look smart while he passes.'

'I will get it for you,' Selek promised. 'Jim, as it is already a late hour in San Francisco, I must insist that you go to sleep. Christopher did not neglect to inform me that you have been found asleep in the Library three times in the past week,' he reprimanded. Jim hadn't even remembered what being scolded felt like until now. 

'Umm. Happens,' he muttered. 'I don't usually miss out on sleep,  _A'nirih_ . Just sometimes. Like, this week, I've been working on this, umm, project of mine,' he couldn't possibly tell  _A'nirih_ that he was writing a computer program to rig the Kobayashi Maru test and change its conditions, now could he? He didn't imagine Selek would find it as ingenious as he did. Not until the Starfleet acknowledged the solution as a sign of original thinking on Jim's part, which the plan certainly was, no doubt. 'Okay, I'll go to sleep. I'll even let Bones hypo me with some sleeping draught if you want.' 

'Do you have trouble sleeping without aid?' Selek asked sharply. 

Jim's eyes widened. 'Now, don't just jump to conclusions,' he said defensively. But he couldn't lie. To be honest, he really thought some of the Vulcan influence imprinted itself on him from his upbringing, because he just  _could not lie_ . So he usually didn't say anything, instead. Omission was not a lie. Not a true one. 'Um. Okay. Yeah, I can't sleep sometimes if Bones doesn't knock me out. There's something wrong with my head from time to time. I... dream of Tarsus,' he confessed. At the near horrified look on his  _A'nirih_ 's face, he added: 'Not all the time! Just, some nights. It's not even that bad, you know? But it's just enough to wake me up and then I can't fall asleep again. It's not that serious, though, I deal with it. And it doesn't happen often, really.'

_Not as often as the migraines during the day_ , he thought. It was something he was never going to tell Selek. So far, he hadn't even told Bones. 

'When you accompany me to Vulcan next month, I will arrange for a meeting with a mind healer,' Selek said after a moment. 'It may be that the shields erected in your mind to help you deal with the trauma have been fractured by the passage of time. The mind healer will teach you how to reinforce them.'

_Wow, I've had shields in my mind this whole time? How come you never told me?_ Jim wondered, incredulous, but again, he remained silent. It was unreasonable to be offended about something that had no impact other than positive on his life. His  _A'nirih_ knew what he was doing and he didn't need to explain anything he didn't want to. 

Jim was a responsible adult and he understood such things.

'I'm pretty tired,' he said instead. He faked a yawn, only to have it ruined when he really yawned right after.

'I can see that,' Selek said. 'Good night, Jim. May you be spared from nightmares tonight.'

And with that, the transmission ended.

*

'I'm going to kill that pointy-eared bastard,' Jim informed Bones on the day of his third Kobayashi Maru attempt, barely an hour before the test. 'Better yet, I'm going to grab his bangs and rip it out of his head.'

The mental image helped a bit. Only a little bit, but it was something. Since he had not managed to get over himself since lunch break, the small comfort of the vision provided more of a relief than it should have.

'Would you calm down, kid?' Bones scolded him. 'Really, you claim you hate that guy so much, but I swear you're acting like all you ever wanted was praise from him. Maybe you should join his fanclub? I hear they're recruiting.'

'Oh fuck off, Bones,' Jim hissed. 'You can't tell me you're not seeing it: that guy has it in for me. I mean, you were there! We were minding our own business in the mess when Uhura came. I just said  _hi_ and she breaks out into this big confession that she intercepted and translated a Klingon distress call, which, mind you, is fucking  _impressive_ . And then  _he_ arrives like the fucking bastard he is and goes all  _do not waste your time with him, Nyota_ and  _it is dubious as to whether he can understand a single word of your statement_ . The fucking nerve of him!'

'What you need to do is stop raging, stop throwing your hissy fits and calm down,' Bones told him sternly. 'You've got a test in less than an hour, kid! And you're on your way to failing it spectacularly... for the third time.'

'I knew you hated me, Bones,' Jim said with a pout. He just wished it was all behind him: the test, the exams, the Academy courses. He wanted to go into space, to live out all the amazing adventures that were sure to await him out there. Of course, he had served some time on USS Farragut during the vacation period between his second and third year, but it was not enough. A real deep-space mission, that's what he wanted: to explore new worlds nobody had seen before him. With a  _loyal, agreeable_ crew. He wasn't sure he wanted it to include a doctor Leonard McCoy, after all. 

'Let's go grab you some tea,' Bones suggested, patting his shoulder. 'Then I'll buy you dinner after you fail the Maru, and we can go drink until it gets better.'

'Awww, so you do care,' Jim cooed. This earned him another glare. 'Okay, okay. But don't hold your breath for that failure. I'm beating it today.'

He grabbed an apple in the mess and took it with him to munch on during the test. Regulations didn't forbid it and he supposed nobody would care - and he was hungry, since he was so angry at the stuck-up Vulcan during lunch period, he didn't even get to eat anything.

Later, he thought the apple might have been the last straw.

*

To be fair, he did beat the test. Only a stuck up Vulcan commander with an attitude problem, who incidentally was the creator of the test - and Jim really should have predicted that, this whole destiny business had it so in for him - could have called it cheating. Which he did. In front of the whole assembly of students, professors and fucking  _Starfleet Admiralty_ . 

'I think you don't like the fact that  _I_ beat  _your_ test,' Jim said, narrowing his eyes at Spock, but what he really thought was,  _I think you don't like the fact that I exist._ He had a headache that threatened to burst out from inside his skull and cover the immediate area with splatters of his brain. Imagining Spock's face when some of the grey matter landed right on his irritating face didn't help, because Jim wouldn't be able to see it, since he could not possibly survive a fucking  _explosion_ _of his skull_ . 

'You missed the whole point of the test,' Spock told him.

It was interesting that, despite the whole Starfleet standing witness to their confrontation, Jim didn't even think of addressing anyone but Spock - and that Spock didn't try to back out from what was quickly turning into an epically pointless quarrel. That they stood there, facing each other, focus on naught but the other's form, like mortal enemies, studying the opponent's moves to find the weakness and _attack_.

'Please, enlighten me,' Jim demanded cheekily.

'The point of the test was to have you experience fear,' Spock stated. His lack of emotion was even more annoying than if he was screaming. Really. Jim absolutely  _hated_ Vulcans. Or this Vulcan. In this version. Because the other version he knew was never this infuriating. 'It was designed to assess your behaviour in the face of a no-win scenario.'

'I don't believe in no-win scenarios,' Jim countered easily.

'I expected you of all people would understand that, Cadet Kirk,' said Spock, and Jim thought he knew what was coming before he heard it from his mouth: 'A captain cannot cheat death.'

'Me of all people,' Jim repeated with a dark chuckle. 'Of course. Me of all people. You know nothing about me,' he hissed. 'And you know nothing about  _him_ . Hell, whatever,  _I_ know nothing about him, for all that it matters. The whole test is just an excuse for you to show others how  _pathetic_ you think we all are, so that you may feel more  _high and mighty_ and  _self-righteous_ about it. That is the whole point and don't give me some  _crap_ about how it is about accepting fear and about how my father sacrificed himself to save eight hundred lives and you still consider it a defeat, because you.  _Actually. Know. Nothing._ '

And before Jim could be pleased with how he managed to run his mouth and talk Spock into stunned silence, there was an emergency alarm and all students were sent to their designated ships, set to head for Vulcan to answer the distress call from the planet.

*

To Jim, getting on the Enterprise was easy enough, especially with the help from Gaila _and_ Bones (the latter of the two complained a whole lot about assisting not one, but two people in boarding a Starfleet flagship without proper clearance; thanks to the overall confusion, Gaila's absence from the USS Farragut went completely unnoticed. She immediately made her way to the engineering, ready to make it her new home). He hid from Spock in the Sickbay, determined not to get removed from the ship before it was launched, and tried to contact anyone who may have known more about the distress call.

Neither Selek nor Number One responded to his call requests; Jim specifically hacked one of the consoles in the Sickbay to amplify the signal from his comm. It was weird that they were not answering – _they supposed to be on Vulcan for a conference, they probably are at that conference, there's nothing to be worried about –_ but Jim could do nothing about it. He decided to try again as he disconnected his makeshift communications station before his meddling with the equipment was detected and a certain Vulcan instructor decided to forcefully throw him out of the ship, or worse – have him expelled.

But then they were in warp and there was that ship-wide transmission about a ship detected near Vulcan's orbit, a massive ship of unknown origins that did not respond to hails. Suddenly filled with dread, Jim ran.

'Get Uhura, I need to find Chris,' he ordered Bones and urged him by pushing him towards the turbolift. 'No really, get her,' he repeated and headed to the bridge as fast as he possibly could, not allowing himself to ponder too much on the theories in his head. There was no time to waste. He didn't look back to see if Bones listened to him and really, he didn't care; he needed to keep his mind and his goal clear.

His head still hurt, but he was almost used to it.

'Captain Pike!' He bellowed as soon as he got to the bridge and, without waiting for acknowledgement, he added: 'You need to stop the ship, Chris, we're heading straight into a trap!'

'What? Jim, what are you doing here?' Pike asked incredulously as he saw him, but Jim just shook his head. 

'We have no time, Chris, _bloody big ship_! The Romulans, USS Kelvin, remember? I read your dissertation, I know you know this,' he said urgently. 'You need to stop the ship, they're waiting there for us.'

'Captain, I can remove him from the bridge,' Spock - the  _fucking First Officer_ \- offered. 

Jim glared at him. 'Shut up, pointy, we're not talking to you,' he snapped. 'Chris,' he turned to Pike again. 'You know I wouldn't joke about this. Trust me, this is a trap. Yesterday before the Maru, there was a distress message from the Klingons about a huge Romulan ship destroying battle cruisers near their prison planet. It's the same Romulan ship, Chris, sir, and you know I'm not wrong!'

Pike regarded him calmly for a few seconds.  _Seconds we don't have_ , Jim thought desperately and he knew the desperation showed in his face. 

'Sir, I intercepted and translated that message he's talking about,' Uhura supplied, choosing that exact moment to enter the bridge, followed by Bones. God, Jim thought he could kiss either or both of them right now.

_No, bad moment for nausea. No kissing, just kidding!_

'Shields at maximum power, Mister Sulu, and prepare to drop out of warp,' Pike decided finally and a wave of relief washed over Jim, threatening to make him collapse into a heap on the floor.

And then, they saw hell.

*

The remains of the other ships, lured into the deadly trap so masterfully laid down by the Romulan vessel, were the scariest sight Jim has ever seen, and that was including Tarsus, including the _nightmares of Tarsus_ , even. Space trash. Thousands of people – cadets and instructors, people he knew, people he _liked_ and _respected –_ reduced to nothing more but space garbage, the vast cemetery of chromium and steel and polimers their only burial site. Thousands of lives, gone, without warning. They must have been dead before they even knew what hit them.

Everything was a blur after that _-_ Pike going over to the Romulan ship - the drill - the fall - the beam-up at the last second – Spock going down – Spock coming back, lost and alone – _there was nobody there_ ; and then, the destruction of Vulcan stretched out for what felt like eternity. Jim could just watch, helpless, as the singularity created inside the planet by what Selek brought from his own timeline ( _the red matter, the wondrous discovery that was supposed to save worlds, not destroy them, never destroy_ ) devoured Vulcan from within, consuming the whole planet and billions of its inhabitants, and through the burst of fear, confusion, anger that seemed to belong to someone else, white-hot and painful in his mind- Jim felt a sadness that was no other's but his own.

_I was supposed to go there with you next month, A'nirih. Because the temperature's going to be lower. I was supposed to attend a lecture in the VSA._

Jim didn't even know what he was feeling, if he was even feeling anything; his mind was blank and Vulcan being gone was something he could not embrace with his limited perception. The thousands of years of history, the innumerable scientific discoveries, the cultural achievements of a civilization that reached warp capacity before the Terrans even thought of inventing the steam engine - gone, all gone like a dream. All of a sudden, the Federation lost a founding member, and the balance was disrupted, but Jim couldn't bring himself to care.

Numb. He felt so numb. He looked to his right and to his left, but he saw nothing. It was like his vision was blurred, as though through tears, but he didn't think he was crying. Flashes of pain and fear echoed in his mind, filling his existence. He was floating helplessly on the sea of emotions and impressions that weren't his, aware that no matter what he did, no matter how much he struggled, it was the end, something had ended, the _world_ had ended.

But it was not over yet.

'Earth,' he whispered. He scrambled to his feet (why was he on the floor, he wondered absent-mindedly) and ran to get Spock.

*

_I really need to stop getting so pissed off around him,_ was what Jim thought as he climbed up the icy crater made by the pod he was marooned in. He looked at his unresponsive comm, lifted it to his ear and heard the buzz of static. He sighed.

'Where are you,  _A'nirih_ ? I can't do this without you,' he whispered under his breath. He refused to believe Selek had perished with Vulcan, if only out of foolish stubbornness, or denial. His psi-null mind was no help; he could never feel the familial bond Selek claimed they had, and now was no different. If his  _a'nirih_ was lost forever, he wouldn't know. The thought made it impossible to breathe; he was cold, so cold despite the thick layers he was wearing (whoever dressed him deserved a reward, by the way; he wouldn't have survived five minutes in the subarctic climate of Delta Vega otherwise), he was exhausted and emotionally drained, and his headache made him dizzy. Also, he could barely see ahead through the falling snow. He hoped he was not going to have to face a blizzard, because that? Would kill him. 

If the growling, furry beast running at him didn't kill him first.

The instinct to run for his life kicked in before his mind had a chance to catch up. Jim ran in a mad attempt to escape the mass of foul-smelling claws and fangs that chased him relentlessly; then, the ice broke right after Jim stepped off it and a new creature – a red, multi-legged,  _giant_ one – emerged. Its jaws closed around the furry beast, but apparently, it tasted as bad as it smelled, because the bigger monster threw it away with a roar and Jim found himself trying to run even faster now. 

It was hopeless, he had no chance and he was aware of that even as he still did his best to outrun the beast. He tried to slide down an icy cliff to lose it, but it was not deterred; even when it fell down many feet onto the hard ice, it got back up and resumed the chase.

A cave. There was a cave ahead and maybe, if he just got there, he could hide and it would be alright, he could wait for someone to rescue him or for the beast to give up, and...

The beast lashed out with its long, sticky tongue, using it to grab Jim's ankle and pull him in; he thrashed wildly, but it was useless. He could already smell the beast's breath, the odour of rotting flesh and stomach acids. He was going to die. He was going to be eaten alive.

A figure appeared from behind him, a torch in its hand raised like a weapon; the beast backed off when it sensed the heat of the fire, then ran away, giving up on the meal in exchange for safety from burns – and Jim realized, detached from emotion, he was going to live after all. He was saved. Slowly, trying to calm his breathing, he got up to his feet and faced his saviour. He felt the numbness melting away; he blinked back tears as a familiar face stared back at him in amazement.

'Jim? How did you find me?' The voice he knew so well asked, the voice Jim had wanted to hear so, so much; before he realized what he was doing, he threw himself into his saviour's embrace, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the un-manly tears of joy and relief that threatened to spill.

'I thought you were dead,' he whispered into Selek's shoulder – for it was indeed Selek, his  _A'nirih_ , that had chased away the beast. 'I was suspended for cheating and I wanted to talk to you, but then Bones sneaked me and Gaila onto the Enterprise and Vulcan was in danger and Christopher let Nero take him hostage, and you wouldn't reply when I called, neither did Number One, and then he destroyed Vulcan and I thought I lost you,  _A'nirih_ , I thought I'd ever see you again, and Spock marooned me here and I was going to die!...'

'I am here for you, Jim,' Selek said, his voice slightly strained. He let Jim – still a child in so many ways, although he'd never admit it out loud – stay in the embrace until he managed to retain his calm. Then, he spoke: 'Jim, you need to go back. The Enterprise; you need to take captaincy from my younger self. This is extremely important.'

'What, over your dead body?' Jim asked, sniffling; he thought it was the only scenario in which this particular goal could be achieved.

'Preferably not,' Selek replied and the corners of his lips twitched in an almost-smile. It was gone in an instant, though, no matter how much Jim wanted it to last. 'Jim. What did you feel when you saw... Vulcan's destruction?' The elderly Vulcan asked. He wasn't careful enough: Jim could hear the grief in his voice. Of course he could. This was the person who raised him.

'Sadness, I guess. Umm. Fear. Regret, because you'll never be able to take me there. Numbness when I realized you might've been there, since that was where you were going. And then pain, like, this blinding white pain in my mind. Sulu said I'd collapsed for a bit. I... felt you feel them die, right?' Jim asked, blinking at the realization.

'No, Jim. Our minds are not connected in such a manner. I made sure of that to protect you. However, it is likely true that you felt the anguish and loss because your mind is naturally attuned to mine. You felt it through the link with the other me,' Selek explained. He must have noticed something – an incredulity – in Jim's expression, because he sighed. 'You do possess a link with his mind, Jim, a bond if you may, and I doubt he is unaware of it: I can feel it right now, even though I am not attempting to touch your mind.'

'But, how? The only time he touched me, he Vulcan-pinched me and it was, well, after. Right before he marooned me here, in fact,' Jim said in protest.

'That is not true, although I admit I can guess why you are attempting to hide that particular event from me,' Selek admitted. 'I have been notified of your brief... physical intercourse, with my younger self, by Number One. She felt it was too important of an event to, as you would say, “cover for you”.'

' _Physical inter-_ ' Jim sputtered. 'It was just a Human kiss! And it was years ago, I was sixteen! There's no way I got bonded with him when I was sixteen,  _A'nirih_ !'

'And yet there you are,' Selek concluded calmly. 'Be as it may, Jim, we have let ourselves stray from the main problem for far too long. Follow me. You need to meet someone.'

*

Jim found it a little bit mood-lifting that the Starfleet outpost was actually located in the direction he had been pursuing before the beast encounter forced him to take a detour. He was, however, astonished to find numerous other Vulcans inside; some were working in the big hangar, moving supplies and doing what seemed like minor repairs on the shuttles he didn't expect to find there under the care of a Human male – Selek introduced him as Montgomery Scott.

'Outpost sixty-three just reported in, Ambassador,' the Human informed Selek with a grin. 'The scary lady commed me herself. They're all accounted for, all one hundred thousand and seventy three. That would be the last of the billion evacuated to Delta Vega,' he announced with pride.

'Wait,' Jim interrupted, eyes widening. 'You evacuated a billion Vulcans?'

'Six billion,' Scotty corrected him. 'One billion's on this wee frozen piece of rock, laddie. It's all thanks to the Ambassador's emergency evacuation plans. The whole procedure went almost seamlessly!'

'Later, Jim,' Selek said and motioned for Scotty to follow them to a more private location. 'Mister Scott, I need you to beam yourself and Jim to the USS Enterprise. These are the coordinates you shall target,' he passed Scott a PADD. 'Jim, you need to take command. Spock is likely in a state of emotional compromise, stemming from the loss of his planet. Use this to your advantage.'

'It's cruel,' Jim muttered, feeling uneasy, even more so when the headache he was so used to spiked in intensity. The bond, if that was really what it was, appeared to agree with him in the assessment of Selek's plan.

'It's necessary. You will make it up to him later, if you so wish,' Selek said. 'There is no time. You have to stop Nero where I could not, Jim. You can do it, together with him. I shall await contact from you after it is done.'

Jim shook his head, but didn't argue anymore. Yet, before Mister Scott finished entering some complicated equations into the transporter console (ones which Jim was going to ask about later, because he had never seen anything like _this_ before and if it could do what he thought it could do – that is, if it could transport them to a starship moving at warp speed – it was some pretty awesome stuff), he addressed the Vulcan again.

' _A'nirih_ ,' he asked, voice soft. Worried. 'His mother, ummm, your mother? She wasn't there when he beamed down. Is she?...'

'She is safe, Jim,' Selek replied in a placating tone. 'Do not concern yourself with this for now. Do what you must.'

*

And then, in another unexpected blur of events, Jim found himself back aboard the Enterprise with a man who was apparently destined to become the ship's Chief of Engineering or something to that effect – Selek didn't really have time to explain much more – and, sooner than he wanted to, he was forced to face Spock. One look into Spock's all too human eyes that held nothing but pure hatred when they met his was enough to bring the headache to the front of his mind, stronger and unrelenting, making hurtful words flow past Jim's lips faster than his brain could catch up with them.

He hated himself for each one of them.

'You won't accept that you're wrong about this because it scares you. It scares you that you don't know what to do and that for once, there is _nobody_ there to pat you on the head and tell you you're doing great. How does it feel, huh? To be so completely alone in a position where you're expected to know what you're doing, but you have no idea?' He paused, shook his head and continued: 'I forgot, you don't feel anything at all. Your planet was destroyed, you had the front row seat to that spectacle and _you did nothing_. You're running away because you're too scared to fight. You're _too Human for this_. Maybe that's it. You're no better than us puny Humans at all. Look at you. You're not Vulcan, you're not Human. Look at you, _half-breed_! You. Are. Pathetic!'

Predictably, Spock lashed out at that, attacked him like a cornered animal would in defence; and even as his fingers closed around Jim's throat, as Jim was being held down and strangled with an inhuman strength he was helpless against right there on the bridge in front of other people who did nothing to save him (or maybe they did, maybe they tried, but they were no match against a furious Vulcan), the only thing Jim could focus on beyond the struggle to _breathbreathelive_ was a whisper of something pitifully joyful and happy that resounded at the back of his mind, caused by _his bondmate touching him_. He was tired, so tired, and he couldn't breathe, and Spock hated him, and so he lost the will to fight, resigning himself to that creepily gleeful giddiness

_his head didn't hurt at least this once_

and at that moment, seconds before the terrible deed was done, Spock suddenly let go; the hand around Jim's throat was gone and he could breathe again. He was almost painfully aroused, he had tears in his eyes, threatening to spill at any moment, and his headache was back as an unbearable longing filled his mind again, a constant in his life that he didn't care to deal with and he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to, anyway.

'I have become emotionally compromised,' Spock said loud enough for the crew members witnessing the scene to hear. 'I am therefore relinquishing my command. Please make note of this in the log,' he was looking anywhere but at Jim as he was speaking; yet, when he finished, their eyes met for a fraction and Jim didn't recognize what he saw in Spock's gaze, but still it made his heart throb.

As Spock left the bridge and Jim took command of the ship, doing what had to be done, everything felt wrong. He hated himself for this. He hated Selek a little bit as well.

'I hope you know what you're doing,' Bones told him dubiously a few minutes later, when everything calmed down for the time being.

'Me too,' Jim said softly and issued orders to pursue the war criminal, Nero. He'd face the consequences of all this later. He had a planet to save.

*

They worked as smoothly as a team as they had partaken in an academic discussion years ago: completing each other, complimenting each other's strengths and covering for weaknesses. There was an unlimited potential to their teamwork; something Jim's  _A'nirih_ had reluctantly told him once when he was much younger and understood much less suddenly sprang up to his mind:

_He was by no means infallible and neither was I; but through working together, we ensured the success of many a mission, building in the process a friendship that defined both of us. In time, Jim, that friendship grew into something that transcends space and time. I believe, illogically perhaps, that it was what initially led me to you when I found myself in this timeline._

Spock stood close to him, courageous and determined, looking at him as though he was seeing him for the first time. There was something in his face, a realization of a kind, and Jim thought it was unfair, because they were supposed to see the whole universe together, to explore the worlds that were just waiting out there to be discovered. They were not supposed to die yet. It was not their destiny.

'If I do not come back, you must know-'

'You'll come back,' Jim interrupted him before Spock could finish that sentence. He smiled, hoping to project the cocky reassurance he really didn't possess in the first place. 'We'll meet back on our ship. It'll all work out.'

Surprisingly, it really did.

*

Ten years. The Grand Evacuation Plan had been founded ten years ago, and six billion worth of Vulcans – and one Human - managed to keep it a secret all this time. Jim, when he finally had a moment to corner his _A'nirih_ and ask, was positively impressed by the elderly Vulcan's genius; to come up with, and then to introduce a plan for the evacuation of an entire planet, to have everything and everyone ready to literally leave everything behind at the right time: something of this magnitude would be unthinkable in any culture other than Vulcan.

As it were, the Vulcans had secretly been preparing for departure from their homeworld for a decade, so it came as no surprise that there were no casualties to Nero's attack but those from Starfleet.

'When I first came to this timeline, Jim,' Selek explained patiently, sitting down across from Jim at the table in the Starfleet mess, 'I saw with my own eyes the extent of destruction Nero was capable of. I knew that, in his grief, simply pursuing and killing me would not grant Nero the satisfaction he sought. He was aware of the Red Matter. He was also cognizant of the fact that I, also, have entered the event horizon of the black hole that brought him here. He must have been aware of my imminent arrival. This is why I finally drafted and enforced the Grand Evacuation Plan for Vulcan. Sarek was an invaluable ally in this endeavour; with his Ambassadorial influence and my knowledge, we were able to prepare for the threat,' he said and sighed, somewhat regretfully. 'We did not, however, anticipate our home being lost to us forever.

'When Nero stole my ship from me and deposited me on Delta Vega, I promptly sought out Mister Scott, who had been a major asset in the Plan since its early stages. It was with his help that we introduced the portable long-range beaming devices as our main means of evacuation. As soon as I contacted Mister Scott, I had him send an emergency transmission to Vulcan. Upon receiving it, Sarek, with T'Pau's authorization, initiated the evacuation process. Being responsible for the coordination, he made sure no sentient being was left on the planet before he activated his own device to join his wife in one of the refugee camps. This, in turn, activated the sequence that sent the distress call to Starfleet.

'The rest, as Humans say it, is history,' Selek finished.

'We didn't make it in time,' Jim said softly. 'And now Vulcan is no more.'

'But its culture and its people live, my boy, and they no longer have to fear the threat of Nero's vengence, thanks to you,' Selek replied kindly. 'We shall find a new home among the stars. It is only a matter of time, which we have aplenty. Do not worry about what could have been. What is, is.'

Jim nodded.

'Sometimes when I talk to you, I still feel like a child who seeks counsel from his parent, _A'nirih_ ,' he confessed, taking a sip of cocoa. It was replicated and tasted nothing like what he used to drink at home. He thought of Vulcans, who no longer had a home, and felt a weight like a stone drop inside his stomach.

'You shall always find advice and compassion from me, Jim,' Selek reassured him. 'You are my child. In this aspect, nothing has changed and nothing will.'

But to Jim, everything changed. And unlike the other changes in his life, he didn't like this one at all.

*

Three weeks after they saved the Earth – after they had successfully defeated Nero, rescued Pike, destroyed the Narada and managed to live to tell the tale – Jim found himself sitting down by the table in his and McCoy's dorm room, fighting the urge to roll his eyes as Bones frantically scanned every piece of fruit in the salad he had chosen as his breakfast with a tricoder to determine whether it was potentially lethal to Jim or not.

'I've eaten this before, Bones,' he said, but he might as well have not bothered, because the only answer he got was:

'Shut up. I swear they're multiplying.'

'Eh?' He blinked and looked inside the bowl that held the chopped up pieces of peach, apple, banana and grape. Predictably, the fruits did not multiply. He pointed it out to Bones.

'What the hell you talking about?' The doctor asked, looking at him as though it was Jim that was crazy. 'I meant your damn allergies, kid. We're almost out of room on the list on our door.'

'It's okay, though. You're moving out, like, tonight? Or tomorrow?' Jim asked, stabbing a piece of fruit with a fork. He brought it up for closer inspection – it still didn't multiply – and popped it into his mouth, chewing thoroughly.

'Tonight,' Bones replied. 'Will you be alright? You're the only person left on the floor.'

'I'll be fine, obviously. It's only a few days. Number One says she'll help me move my stuff once Chris is discharged,' Jim said and grinned. 'When I'm all settled in, you're gonna have to come see my apartment. It's pretty amazing, Bones. It's got the best view in the city.'

'I don't want to know why you consider the Starfleet Command to be the best view San Fran has to offer, but okay, be my guest. What about your Vulcan dad?' McCoy asked. It was unlike him to be curious of anything Jim-related, maybe besides his medical anomalies; Jim wondered if the sudden interest was caused by the fact that for the first time in years, they were to be separated for an extended period of time.

Living with someone, learning their quirks and habits, those things really brought people together. Jim wondered if he would be able to fall asleep without Bones' snoring. Bones was probably wondering if he was going to be able to sleep without having to worry about Jim inhaling the wrong dust particles and almost dying. Both of them were relieved that they would never have to think about the other's laundry. It was all a part of sharing their living space. They made good room-mates.

But now, they were no longer cadets at the Academy. Jim received his commendation: he was going to take command of the Enterprise, officially this time. McCoy was going to be a part of his crew, his Chief of Medical. Of course, they still had months ahead of them before that was going to happen; the Enterprise was undergoing extensive repairs that were scheduled to finish by the end of the year at the earliest. Until that time, they were on shore leave on Earth, or wherever they wanted to be; free to do whatever they wanted for the next half a year.

'He's at the embassy,' Jim found himself replying, breaking out of his deep thoughts. 'He and Sarek are taking charge of organization in the outposts. Lady Amanda is helping wherever she can. It's... complicated, honestly. They're trying to reign in the chaos, to see what has been salvaged, before they can think of finding a new place to live. There's like, six billion homeless people, scattered all over the universe,' his voice broke at the end. He felt his chest tighten.

_You could have prevented this. You could have saved the planet. You could have disabled that drill sooner. You didn't try hard enough. You weren't good enough. It's your fault._ These thoughts flooded his mind, unbidden and overwhelming, again, like many times before. Jim didn't want to believe them, didn't want to blame himself, and yet on some level, he knew it to be true: he could have tried harder. He could have done better. He  _should_ have.

'Is there anything we can do to help?' Bones asked. He sounded sincere. Jim knew better than to make fun of it, no matter how tempting it seemed at the moment; he knew Bones would just get offended and it wasn't worth it, even if a joke would buy him a temporary change of subject to something lighter, something that didn't make him want to cry at the loss of something that hadn't ever been his to begin with.

'I don't think Vulcans want to even consider accepting our help. They have lots of pride, Bones. Like, you'd think it's illogical to refuse help because of pride, but that's what they'd do. They want to feel strong as a race right now, like they aren't desperately reliant on the Federation they helped found themselves,' Jim sighed. He pushed his bowl away; as hungry as he'd been a while ago, now he couldn't swallow another bite. His throat felt stuffed. Maybe he had an allergic reaction to something, after all.

'Damn it, Jim. Stop making yourself cry for their sake,' said McCoy and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. Bones wasn't an affectionate man as a rule, which meant Jim must've looked awful. Okay, so he was a crybaby. Sometimes. He was sensitive, okay?

'I'm so tired of feeling like this, Bones,' he muttered, hiding his face in his hands. 'It's like there's a fucking gaping hole in my mind, like a freaking black hole in the centre of the universe, and everything eventually gets sucked into it, and I just can't bring myself to care. He hates me. _My_ _bondmate hates me_ , Bones. It hurts. It's, it's like... I don't even know. There's nothing to compare it to. It's like nothing happy can ever happen to me because he despises me.'

He knew he must have sounded deranged at best, and his voice was muffled, so it was no surprise McCoy didn't speak. He probably didn't understand a single thing Jim was saying. Good for him. Most of the time, Jim wished he didn't know about the bond. It was so much better when he was still just suffering from unbearable headaches and waves of nausea that wouldn't let him have sex and he wasn't aware of the cause. Now he was. And the headaches didn't pass at all.

'Okay, first things first,' Bones said after what felt like hours of rather uncomfortable silence. 'I'm a doctor, not a psychotherapist, but just this once, I'm making an exception. Now. I'm quite sure you mentioned a _bondmate_ , kid, and as far as I know, Humans don't form “bonds” in the literal sense with each other. This means you're involved with a non-Human. Right so far?'

' _Involved_ is not the word I'd use,' Jim mumbled miserably.

'Okay, hopelessly in love with. Better, princess?' The doctor drawled, irony and irritation mixing into something so typically _him_.

'Fuck you,' Jim told him.

'Yeah, _no_. Where were we? Ah, yes. Your epic love affair with a non-Human. Which is apparently not epic and not a love affair, since you claim your non-Human hates you. Funny. Do you know what this reminds me of?' Bones made a face. Jim didn't see what kind of face it was because his own was still hidden behind his hands, but he could imagine it. He didn't laugh. 'It reminds me of the fact that, oh, _Vulcans_ form long-term bonds. Not that I'd know much about that, the pointy-eared bastards are great at hiding information about their everything from us measly _otherworlders_ , but thanks to your incessant babbling about your Vulcan dad and the poor sod's private life, I'm becoming quite a bloody expert on the hobgoblins. By the way, if you tell me you've somehow idiotically managed to get bonded to that bastard Spock, I'm going to kill you so that your stupid doesn't accidentally spread and everyone will be grateful to me for containing the infection.'

'I can write it down,' Jim offered, lifting his head. 'Or, like, type it up and send it to your PADD. Or make a graffiti somewhere outside. Big, green letters: _I'm fucking bonded to the hottest and most annoying Vulcan ever and by the way, he hates my guts_. People are gonna come and take photos with that gem. It'll boost tourism in America big time. Seriously.'

'Please shut up now,' Bones requested.

Jim did.

*

And then Bones was gone for the time being.

It was actually fun for the first few hours: all alone in the room, with no obligations to fulfil and nowhere to be for the first time in years. There was absolutely nothing he had to do – he was perfectly fine just lying sprawled on Bones' (now spare) bed and reading up on the ancient marriage rituals on Xxxxbssgt, a planet that recently petitioned for admittance to the Federation. Apparently, aside from their warp capability and a headache-inducing, vowel-deprived language, the inhabitants of Xxxxbssgt had a very interesting approach to marriage. First of all, their word for marriage was the same as for birth, which probably led to some amusing diplomatic failures, especially considering the Universal Translator had so much trouble with the clutters of hissy consonants that made up their language. Apparently, this was because an individual who didn't give birth to a healthy child was not worthy of marriage, the highest honour in their culture. With no distinction of genders, the Xxxxbsstgssxgs – as they called themselves (and oh God, Jim would have _loved_ to hear someone – preferably Christopher Pike – say that in an official meeting or something) – raised their children together in communities where no division existed between the poor and the rich, even though the adults did in fact cultivate an intricate caste system that was almost as hard to understand as it was to pronounce. It appeared to be based on the colour of reproductive organs, for some reason, but according to the logs from starships that visited the planet, it might as well have been just one of the deciding factors, as probable as that the baby was born on Tuesday and the local plant sprouted a fresh leaf.

The Xxxxbsstgssxgs were as secretive about their caste system as Vulcans were about their, like, _everything_. Jim felt like his upbringing taught him to read between the lines in mission logs and scientific journals. For example, what he learned from one of the mission logs from the time first contact with Xxxxbssgt was established was: blondes were the most sought-after marriage partners due to their aesthetically pleasing features.

Sometimes, it seemed to Jim like the whole universe wanted to have sex with him. Too bad he was unable to have sex with anyone, or even masturbate without feeling downright sick. He was pathetic. He was twenty two and a virgin.

'Damn you, Spock,' he muttered under his breath and put the PADD aside.

He closed his eyes and tried to force himself to meditate. Lately, it had been increasingly difficult; he always lost focus before he could as much as calm his breathing. As a kid, he used to have no trouble with clearing his mind in an instant. Then again, as a kid, he didn't suffer from a terminal case of blue balls. That came with time.

His headache had been somewhat better lately, miraculously. He wondered if maybe Spock finally noticed the bond and shielded it or something; that seemed actually possible, because the nightmares disappeared along with the dull throbbing inside his skull. It was nice. He slept well, he could mostly concentrate throughout the day without massaging his temples. It was almost as though the bond didn't exist. Or as though it had been consummated and therefore didn't press him into seeking physical contact with Spock.

_Damn_ . Just the idea of touching the Vulcan made all the blood from his body flow down to his groin. So, okay. He was young and frustrated, has been frustrated for  _years_ , and such urges were completely natural for someone his age. But the soft, pleasant thrumming in the back of his mind right where the bond was rooted, no, that one was not as natural. The bond seemed to approve of his sudden interest in Spock. Weird. 

And intriguing.

Experimentally, Jim let his imagination conjure an image of a pretty girl, dark-haired and, okay, maybe dark-skinned too, topless and seductive – and he immediately gave up at that train of thought as a wave of nausea hit him, almost killing his arousal and definitely killing his mood. Then, uninvited, images of Spock popped up in Jim's mind instead – not sexual at all, just brief flashes of the Vulcan when he was younger and had that attentive look on his face as he listened to something Jim would say; or the recollections of the moments on the _Narada_ , where they worked together like a synchronized mechanism and achieved their goal because of that. And suddenly, he remembered Spock flushing a deep green colour as he informed Jim he looked like-

_A pleasure slave_ , Jim thought and felt warmth spreading on his face; he was hard again and it was so weird, but he slid his hand down his abdomen and inside his sweatpants anyway. He let his mind wander, come up with a fantasy where it was Spock's hand carefully dipping between his legs, Spock's fingers cupping his erection in a grip that was too strong and not strong enough simultaneously, Spock's other hand that lightly pinched his nipple – and  _fuck_ , why had he never known his nipples were  _sensitive_ to touch? - Spock's breath on his neck right before the Vulcan would bite at the delicate skin. It all felt so good, so right and, and somewhat  _familiar,_ like the fantasy was not new, but Jim couldn't be bothered to wonder about that right now. He paused his ministrations for a second that it took him to push down the sweatpants and underwear and then he took his erection in his hand again, stroking slowly, savouring the sensation. Spock wouldn't be that gentle with him, though; Spock would pin him down and Jim would be helpless about his Vulcan strength. At Spock's mercy, he would be forced to lie back and enjoy the onslaught of sensations, the hand jerking him off, the dark eyes looking at him hotly, the quickened breath, the teeth against his neck and – his hand moved faster – Spock would wrap his fingers carefully around Jim's throat, would tighten them just a little, just  _right_ , just enough to limit Jim's oxygen intake, to cloud his mind – and oh, faster, like that, a bit too raw, a bit too dry –  _pleasure slave, he wanted to give Spock pleasure –_ and then Jim was coming, covering his hand with his release as he brought himself to orgasm for the first time while awake. 

'Fuck,' Jim groaned a few minutes later, when his heartbeat was more or less back to normal and he could breathe without hyperventilating. The bond at the back of his mind was  _purring_ , content like never before. The headache was completely gone, although Jim suspected it was going to come back sooner or later. The euphoric state reminded him of the moments of consciousness he often experienced right before awakening from deep sleep – the satisfaction and sense of fulfilment were very similar. 

'Fuck,' he repeated.

Right at that moment, he didn't know who he hated more – Spock, for accidentally bonding them and never letting him know; or himself, for being so hopelessly in love with the bastard.

… Bones was right. And fuck, indeed.

*

The next day brought with it an unexpected visit from Spock's very own father, Sarek. Jim opened the door, only half-awake and barely dressed, and instantly closed it back again. So much for a good first (second, third, hundredth – who'd keep count at this point? Even though they had never exchanged words before, Sarek knew a lot about him) impression. Not that he really needed to make an impression of any kind, except he kinda did.

He got dressed within seconds and tried to tame his wild bed hair before he went and opened the door again, this time prepared, with a _ta'al_ lifted in greeting.

'Eh, hello,' he said lamely, all but cowering under the Vulcan's scrutinizing gaze as he showed the Ambassador inside.

'Greetings, James Kirk,' replied Sarek indifferently, lifting his own hand in a much more perfect _ta'al_ than Jim could ever hope to achieve. He didn't seem to be offended by Jim's lousy appearance, which was a blessing, really, because offending him was the last thing Jim wanted right now. 'I presume I find you in good health. I wish to express gratitude on behalf of my people as well as myself: thank you, Captain Kirk, for your actions that led to the demise of the war criminal Nero.'

'Ummm, gratitude is unnecessary,' Jim replied awkwardly, 'but appreciated none the less. Though Spock did much more than me...'

'I am aware of my son's input into this victory,' Sarek informed him. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Naively, maybe, Jim had believed that prolonged exposure to Spock (either version of Spock, really) would be enough to make him an expert on communications with Vulcans. Well, he had been wrong. 'Spock informed me that you are his chosen bondmate,' the Ambassador said, lifting an inquiring eyebrow.

'Ah. Um. Sir,' said Jim sheepishly, feeling himself blush. He didn't want to confirm that statement, since it wasn't exactly true, but correcting the Vulcan would be rude. Or something.

'Fascinating,' Sarek noted. 'You are doubtlessly aware due to your upbringing that every Vulcan child is bonded at the equivalent of seven Terran years of age. When such a time came for Spock to be bonded, T'Pring, whose mind was the most compatible with Spock's, was chosen for him. However, despite the apparent compatibility, the link between them could not be formed. Further attempts with other minds proved equally futile. We gave up in our efforts, assuming incorrectly that Spock's hybrid physiology made it impossible to create this type of bond. Yet, upon meeting you, his mind spontaneously formed a bond with yours. It is most fascinating indeed.'

'It, umm, kinda is,' Jim admitted to this at least. Although that still didn't explain why Sarek called him Spock's _chosen_ bondmate. There was no choice in spontaneous combustions, was there? 'I didn't know that, though. About, well, bonding, and also about Spock not having one. He kind of doesn't talk to me much.'

'I ask that you be forgiving of his actions,' said Sarek. 'He is not in the right state of mind. After the disaster that befell us, many of my people have suffered from mental conditions that require a lot of effort to recover from.' If Jim didn't know better, he'd think the Ambassador was making excuses for his son. The notion was ridiculous, both because he knew Vulcans didn't do such things and because if it was true, it would imply Sarek actually approved of Spock's bondmate and disapproved of Spock's treatment of Jim, which was, well, hardly probable.

'I'm not mad at him or anything,' Jim assured the Ambassador anyway.

He received a nod in return, before Sarek bid him his best wishes and fared him well, leaving Jim to his activities that, for the foreseeable future seemed to involve pining, reading and, perhaps shamefully, masturbating, in various proportions.

Life was never that easy, though.

*

'I admit I might have told Spock of my true identity,' Selek said, unblinking eyes trained on Jim, a look of patient exhilaration adorning his face on the holo-screen. 'I might have, hypothetically, done this because I believed it to be the most advantageous course of action.'

'Advantageous to whom?' Jim demanded in annoyance, because shit, was he tired of Vulcans and their illogically logical illogic, if that even made any kind of sense. ' _A'nirih_ , Spock came to me not even two hours ago, called me things – he all but accused me of being a manipulative slut, he actually told me he believes I somehow made you bond him to me, by fucking witchcraft for all I know! And you say it was advantageous? Right now, my head is killing me, I couldn't even comm you sooner because I was too busy hugging the toilet bowl! Oh, but at least it won't be for much longer,' he laughed bitterly.

'What do you mean?' Selek asked, alarmed.

'He intends to have a Healer break the bond,' Jim said softly, suddenly feeling defeated, deflated. 'He doesn't want me. Told me as much. He thinks I'm ill-suited to be anyone's bondmate.'

'If you wish, I may speak to him and change his mind-'

'No!' Jim immediately interrupted his _A'nirih_. He shook his head. 'No. I... I don't want him either. I don't want to remain bonded to somebody who hates my guts,' he said, almost sounding convinced of the truthfulness behind his words.

'I do not think he experiences any particular animosity directed at your intestines,' Selek assured him, lifting an eyebrow. 'It would be very illogical to do so, as Humans possess little to no control over their internal organs. It is therefore unlikely that your intestines are something my younger counterpart would find offensive.'

'You know well enough what I mean, _A'nirih_ ,' Jim protested weakly, defeated by the unexpected onslaught of Vulcan logic, Selek-style. His protest was so weak because it almost died in an attack of laughter that almost always followed his _A'nirih_ 's deconstruction of some of the more ridiculous Terran idioms. 'And you're wrong, by the way. Illogical or not, Spock actually finds everything about me offensive.'

'It was not the impression I gained from him when I encountered him,' Selek said. He appeared thoughtful. 'You need to remember that Spock is emotionally compromised by the destruction of our planet, Jim, and the situation our people have unfortunately found themselves in. In addition to that, he has to deal with a bondmate he is convinced he has wronged, because you never gave your consent to such a link with him. For Vulcans, there is no crime more grave than forcing a mental connection on another sentient being. It is considered the worst kind of invasion. Spock most likely wishes to sever the bond simply because he thinks its formulation was non-consensual and he cannot stand to continue forcing you to endure it.'

'… He could try asking for my opinion,' Jim reasoned. He sighed, noticing how it was a typical thing for him to do in conversation with just about anyone. Weird. 'Wait, no. He won't ask, because he probably thinks the bond influences my decisions. He may be kind of right about it too, _A'nirih_. For example, right now I'm not sure if I want to kick his scrawny Vulcan ass that would probably break my foot on impact, or to do indecent things to him,' he confessed and started, feeling a blush spread all over his face as he realized what he'd just told his _father_ of all people. He felt stupid, because apparently, he was not supposed to tell a parent such things – although why, he was't really sure, the online forums never gave specifics, and who would believe a bunch of strangers on the Web anyway? - so he remained silent for a moment, until a thought dawned on him. ' _A'nirih_ , would I have fallen in love with him if the bond hadn't been there?' He asked softly, suddenly so insecure.

'It is not a question I can answer,' Selek replied and the corners of his mouth quirked upward in the kind half-smile that always lifted Jim's spirits, because he knew it was only ever directed at him. 'You need to answer it yourself, Jim. Were you in love with Spock before he inadvertently claimed you as his own?' His wise, dark eyes were twinkling in mirth, Jim could see that even on the holo picture. He didn't know what was so funny. 'I will leave you to your thoughts. There are many Vulcan matters I must now attend to,' Selek said, gently reminding Jim that he wasn't actually the only one who required attention.

Jim nodded. 'Live long and prosper,' he told his _A'nirih_ , smiling at him.

'And you as well, Jim. We will see each other soon,' Selek promised – and the communication ended at that.

*

'I think it's bullshit,' Jim informed Spock when he found him a few hours later in the library. Funny; he could swear the table the Vulcan was seated at was actually the same one they used to occupy a few years back, when Spock was still a cadet and Jim was a kid with a totally stupid crush on him. The small table in the back of the room, surrounded by bookshelves and isolated: perfect for study sessions and long, heated discussions in hushed voices.

'I am at a loss of what you are referring to,' Spock said, eyebrow already lifted. The way the Vulcan was looking at Jim was odd, though; as though he only just realized where exactly he was and what meaning the spot held – if it even held any meaning to him at all.

'You're lying,' Jim accused. He sat down next to Spock, ignoring the pointed way in which the Vulcan promptly moved away to put distance between them.

'Vulcans do not lie,' Spock stated coolly.

''Course they do,' Jim countered. 'They're big lying liars that lie. Still. Doesn't matter. I just want to tell you this: you're not breaking the bond. Not without my consent, and fuck if I'm giving you my consent. You're not getting to decide stuff that affects me without asking for my opinion first, Spock. Never again. I'm not allowing it and I'm a stubborn bastard.'

'You are being irrational,' Spock told him. 'The dissolution of the bond is crucial for my well-being as much as it is for yours, especially in light of the fact that I do not intend to come back to the Enterprise.'

That was not very surprising, not really, but the regret overflowing Jim's mind – both from his side and from the bond, he realized: from Spock – was. It made Jim want to reach out and touch the Vulcan's hand; the desire made him move away instead, but a kind of longing that was difficult to ignore filled him whole: the longing to comfort his bondmate.

'I suppose it doesn't matter if I want you to be my First Officer, does it?' Jim asked casually, looking away, locking his eyes at the ceiling. He didn't want to see Spock's reaction, because he already knew what it would be: a blank look. A perfect no-reaction.

To his astonishment, that was not what happened. 'Why do you want that?' Spock asked softly instead. Was he actually confused? Wow. This was certainly not what Jim expected.

'You're joking, right? Spock, we made an awesome team once we got past our differences,' Jim said, grinning enthusiastically. 'On the Narada? We rocked, Spock, we rocked and you know it. I don't know if it's the bond or just, like, we're naturally so synchronized, but you gotta admit the efficiency we have together is amazing.'

'I will admit to no such thing,' Spock replied icily. He was already retreating back to his Vulcan shell.

Jim rolled his eyes. 'You know what? Forget it. But just so you know, the Enterprise is going on her first mission in less than a month. They accelerated the repairs for this. We're going to be out there in less than a month... looking for a planet suitable to become a new home for Vulcans.'

He knew that the information was classified, that he was not supposed to share it with anyone until the mission parameters were confirmed and made public – but he didn't really care right now. Of course, he wouldn't just go and announce it to anyone, but Spock? Spock had the right to know and honestly, if there was a single chance that the news could change the Vulcan's mind about leaving him, he was willing to take it.

Shit, he was becoming pathetic. Whatever happened to “I don't want him”?

'… I was not aware of that,' Spock said softly.

'Yeah, well. You're not supposed to be,' Jim admitted. 'But, Spock... Will you consider this? Just for this mission. If you still want to leave the Enterprise once the Vulcans have a new home to inhabit, I won't stop you.' He was all but outright begging now, and it felt stupid, but he was still ready to do it for much longer if it helped his case. And maybe it did, because Spock actually looked thoughtful.

'It might be that I would be of use to my people as part of this mission,' the Vulcan said finally. 'My presence on the Enterprise could indeed prove advantageous in case a need arose to assess a potentially adequate planet in terms of factual suitability. I believe I could do it three point twenty six times more efficiently than would an individual not familiar with the conditions one could have experienced on Vulcan-that-was. Unless you planned to invite another Vulcan to accompany you?'

'Nah,' Jim said. 'I mean, well, obviously the Admiralty suggested I picked a candidate from the small list of volunteers _A'nirih_ compiled for me, but you know. I kinda hoped I wouldn't have to.' He shrugged and hoped his blush was not visible in the library's specific lighting. It probably was.

'You wished for me to agree,' Spock guessed needlessly.

''Course I did. You're the best,' Jim supplied. He dared sneak a look at the Vulcan and he was immediately caught, captivated by the intensity of Spock's dark brown eyes, eyes that knew everything about him, that could read his soul and his thoughts. God, but Spock's eyes were beautiful.

'I see,' the Vulcan said softly, barely above a whisper. He didn't look away. He still didn't look away. 'I suppose I can temporarily fill the position of your First Officer for the duration of this mission. If you truly wish for me to do so.'

Jim blinked, then slowly grinned again. 'You bet I do,' he said happily. The bond seemed to agree as it hummed in contentment. Belatedly, Jim realized it might have had to do with Spock's hand that was suddenly touching his own in a manner that would be very indecent, were they in the company of Vulcans.

'I am glad,' Spock whispered, very close to Jim's ear. While his fingers were cool to the touch, his breath was hot on Jim's skin, spreading warmth all over his body.

'Kiss me,' Jim pleaded, closing his eyes.

It was the wrong thing to say, as it had the effect opposite to what Jim intended: Spock fled, pushing past him before Jim even realized what was going on.

'Damn,' the Human muttered under his breath. His Vulcan marriage wasn't going all that swell.

*

Not two weeks of endless reading and getting to know different cultures from outer space (that somehow were not in the least secretive about their more intimate customs, which led to poor Jim becoming even more sexually frustrated) in his shiny new apartment, he encountered Spock again. Maybe “encountered” wasn't the word that best reflected the nature of their meeting; actually, what happened was, there was a knock on Jim's door, he opened it and was faced with a neutral-looking Vulcan commander in his grey, standard-issue uniform that looked unfairly good on him.

'Umm, hi,' Jim said, then mentally kicked himself for sounding like a teenager with a crush.

'I was advised by my older counterpart – whom I shall refer to as Ambassador Selek from now on in order to avoid confusion - to invite you to a game of chess,' Spock informed him as way of greeting. Well, he was a Vulcan. Of course, he wouldn't want to waste time for pleasantries.

'Eh? Yeah, okay, come on in,' Jim replied, showing him inside and immediately felt even worse than before because the living room was a _mess_. He barely even unpacked anything. Fortunately, no dirty dishes or remains of food were scattered around (this much, he was almost programmed to remove, after that one time in his early childhood when he didn't and then had to sleep in a room that smelled of rotting meat for like, two whole nights before the stench died down – _A'nirih_ was rather strict when it came to following the house rules, after all), but books, PADDs and bits of dirty laundry where littering the floor and almost every available surface but the beds and desk – including the half-unpacked boxes he grew tired of emptying halfway through. Having anyone over when the apartment looked like this was embarrassing.

'I'm not normally this messy,' he explained and watched Spock lift a disbelieving eyebrow. 'Really. Only when I'm kinda in a bad, unproductive mood. Did you know even Scotty rejected me lately? He said I can't come help with the repairs because I'm captain now and it would be _improper_. What's so improper in a captain wanting to help fix things in Engineering? I don't get it. He lets _Uhura_ come and help whenever she wants, even though she doesn't know a thing about that useful stuff. She's just a distraction and- Oh,' he got it all of a sudden. His eyes widened. 'They're getting it on. I'm sitting in my room like a grounded kid while they're getting it on aboard _my ship_.'

'As Nyota has informed me of her intention to pursue a romantic relationship with Montgomery Scott, I estimate your assumption to be ninety seven point sixteen per cent correct. They are, indeed, _getting it on_ ,' Spock said calmly. Jim could tell, from the bond or just from his exceptional perception of his behaviours, that the Vulcan was amused.

'… let's just play chess,' he muttered and quickly produced some space for them to settle down and play. As in, he dumped the numerous items from the chairs into the closet and kicked it closed, hoping that it wouldn't all come bursting back out. It didn't, for now. Then, he turned to Spock. '3D or regular?' He asked, wondering if he could find his 3D set in the near future. The regular set, well, it was always within arm's reach, because Jim liked to keep important things close to him and this chess set was of extremely high sentimental value, after all. He learned to play with it. He first played against Spock, using this board and these wooden pieces. He taught Bones some basics with it. He defeated Gaila with it, spectacularly and impressively enough that she developed a crush on him and helped him cheat on the Maru. This set held memories of people and events that made an impact on Jim Kirk. Something Spock, no doubt, wouldn't understand.

'Let us start with regular chess,' the Vulcan suggested. 'It will be my pleasure to defeat you on the battlefield of your preference.'

Jim blinked, then let a cheeky grin show on his face. 'So sure you'll beat me, huh?' He taunted, setting up the board on the desk.

'Yes. I am positive,' Spock replied coolly, taking a seat across from Jim. When asked, he chose the black side, giving up the right to make the first move, most probably in order to get a rise about it out of Jim. Well, he didn't.

He also didn't win the first match, nor the re-match and the re-match for the re-match. With a smirk that he knew must have been frustrating, Jim offered to play him again when he felt more up to it.

Thus began their new tradition of facing-off in chess every day whenever Spock found the time.

*

'Whatever happened to the Fillionts?' Jim asked during one of the games, moving his Rook to directly threaten Spock's Queen. It was a diversion tactic: even though his Rook would be immediately beaten, it would open the way for his Knight to lead an offensive and, well, Jim was going to win in four to seven turns, depending on whether Spock was feeling particularly adventurous – or not so much. 'Remember? We talked about those guys years ago. They wanted to enter the Federation. Do you know what happened to their crops in the end?'

'They were successfully saved,' Spock replied, narrowing his eyes as he studied the chessboard. He must have come to the accurate conclusion on what the current situation meant for him. In a rare display of rebelliousness, he didn't beat Jim's Rook, instead moving the Queen to a safer position. At this point, he was merely bidding his time: he had already as good as lost. Yet, not unlike Jim himself would be, were their positions reversed, he wasn't going to admit defeat.

This was exactly why Jim loved playing against him and beating him.

'Elaborate?' He encouraged. He moved his Knight anyway and took Spock's Rook in a well-thought out, if obvious, attempt to threaten his King. It was easily thwarted when his Knight was beaten by a mere Pawn – and yet, it was exactly the scenario he'd been hoping for.

'As I told you I would, I spoke to my Father about your suggestion to include pesticides in the Federation's proposal. It was met with approval, as it was logical. The Fillionts' reaction was an immediate acceptance of our terms, which have since been renegotiated to better serve both sides. Currently, Fillio is pending access to the Federation as a member. I believe the Enterprise might be sent there in due time to survey the planet, as it is a flagship's purpose,' Spock stated.

Jim grinned at him. 'You think so? I'd love to meet those guys, yeah. Their medical awesomeness aside, I read that they're extremely pretty.'

'That is a matter of personal preference,' Spock noted, countering the bold move of Jim's Queen with his own. 'Indeed, I believe one could call the Fillionts very aesthetically pleasing. Their beaks, especially, are said to be made of a component unknown before to the Federation, similar in many aspects to hand-blown glass. It is noteworthy that the Fillionts are traditionally cremated after death. The ashes are kept in a communal mausoleum, held in a special urn hand-crafted from the deceased one's own beak.'

'Claw-crafted,' Jim corrected him, amused. 'They don't have hands, not like we do. I've seen holos of those beak-urns, whatever they were called in their language – trlllrl? Trelllrl? Something like that,' he grinned at Spock as the Vulcan struggled to come up with a good comeback on the chessboard. It was a losing battle. Jim was going to win this. The question was: how soon.

'You tend to show an interesting affinity for languages,' Spock noted, lifting an eyebrow.

'I'm captain now,' Jim replied with a soft laugh. 'I need to know at least a few words. Wouldn't be good if I caused diplomatic incidents because I'm too stupid to learn the difference between “your beautiful, ornate beak-urn” and “your wife slept with her brother's third son”,' he shrugged.

'That is oddly specific,' Spock noticed.

'Yeah. Because that's exactly what I said,' Jim admitted with a smile that probably could have been innocent, weren't it on his face. 'That's the difference between “trlllrl” and “trelllrl”. Don't look at me like that! Geez, I only know that because I read the linguistic reports from the initial first contact mission to Fillio when I was bored half to death. It's not like I'm that smart or anything.'

'That is untrue,' Spock said, with an actual expression on his face akin to a frown. He moved his Queen into check, which, okay, was a risky and illogical move Jim had not counted on: what basically amounted to instant loss. Spock really must've been off his game. 'You are a very smart Human, Jim. In fact, I believe you can easily be called a “genius”, although I find the term rather lacking and unspecific. Were you a Vulcan, your intellectual prowess would have put you high above your peers. It is quite extraordinary.'

'… are you telling me you actually like me for my brains and not just for my hot body?' Jim asked teasingly, unable to help himself until it was too late. Hopefully, Spock would not take offence. Or at least would not decide the stupid joke warranted some traditional choking-to-death.

'I do not “like” you, Jim,' Spock said promptly. It was worse than being strangled. Jim felt all his blood turn to ice at the soft reminder that no matter how good he felt in the Vulcan's company, the notion was not reciprocated. 'Vulcans do not become fond of other beings the way Humans do. Had Elder Selek not taught you that?'

'He's, umm. He's fond of me,' Jim protested weakly. 'It's not true that Vulcans have no feelings. You know it, Spock. Controlling your emotions isn't the same as denying their existence. _A'nirih_ is not very expressive, but I know he feels even more deeply than Humans do. He just does it quietly. Privately,' he sighed. 'I get that you don't like me, though. It's okay. I mean, I wish you didn't despise me, but I accept that you do. I guess.' He paused.

Spock made one of the only three moves available to him on the chessboard – he hid the King behind the Queen, prolonging the game for one more turn before the inevitable defeat. He frowned at the board, as though he was illogically blaming it for the situation. Then, he shook his head and looked up, straight at Jim.

'It is not true that I despise you,' he said, his voice soft. 'Were I to despise you, do you believe the bond would have formed between us just from brief physical contact? A bond so strong, my Father firmly declined my request to have it dissolved by a Healer and reproached me for rejecting something so precious, it was a thing of legends between my people? The formation of such a bond has not been seen on Vulcan for many lifetimes, Jim, possibly not since the time of Surak. As I physically touched you, our minds sought each other out and connected a link much more defined than any betrothal bonds. I am surprised Ambassador Selek did not notice.'

'Oh, he probably noticed alright,' Jim said. 'Checkmate, by the way,' he informed Spock needlessly. 'You will seriously need to try harder one of these days if you want to beat me, or I'll get bored.'

Spock didn't reply. Jim looked at him in question, but the Vulcan was pretty much unreadable, a feat rather difficult to accomplish, considering the bond. It was unnerving, the fact that Spock could shield himself so fully, that he could shut Jim out completely whenever he wanted while Jim, on the other hand, could barely keep his thoughts and emotions in check so that they didn't assault Spock's orderly mind with the Human chaos.

'Ummm. Want some tea?' Jim asked after a while in order to break the uncomfortable silence. He got up, wondering for a second if he even still had a pot to boil water in, or if he would have to use the replicator. It was not the best of ideas at the moment. The replicator was a boredom-induced project, a work in progress. He tried, in vain as of yet, to make it produce meat that didn't taste like paper drenched in blood and tears. Actually, he was close to giving up and becoming full-time vegetarian now that he knew he was going to space for an unspecified time, where he would have little opportunity to eat real, non-replicated food.

Spock turned a thoughtful, measuring look at him that appeared much too intense to just be caused by a question about tea. Then, before Jim knew what was going on, the Vulcan was already tugging him by the wrist, coercing him into sitting in his lap – pulling him into his fucking _lap_ , no kidding – before brushing his fingers against Jim's.

'Wha-?...' Jim asked, unable to contain his incredulity, confusion, anxiety all at once.

'Be silent,' Spock said softly, sounding a little out of breath.

So Jim kept silent, but his mind was reeling. After years of subconscious longing, after months of strong dislike, after weeks of reluctant companionship, Spock was suddenly touching him, holding him, _kissing him the Vulcan way_ and it sent a wave of _lovelustwantnow_ to Jim's mind, rendering him speechless and turning him completely pliant against the assault of sensations. He tried to control his breathing, he tried to hold in the soft moan that eventually escaped his lips when Spock's fingers slid against the palm of his hand _just right_. It was all in vain; with just a small press of the fingertips, Spock reduced him to the most basic feeling of desire flowing through his veins.

It didn't matter that it wasn't supposed to work like that on Humans, that Jim was supposed to crave a different kind of contact; the connection in their minds turned the simple touch into the most erotic caress in existence, telling him exactly what Spock was experiencing – the tingling, sparkly sensation where their fingers brushed against each other, soft and gentle and _irresistible_.

'Spock,' he whispered and was rewarded with two soft, cool fingers touching his lips. He didn't think about what he was doing; he just opened his mouth slightly and sucked the fingers in, revering in the soft gasp Spock made at the notion.

He wasn't sure where to go from there, so he just did what his first instinct told him to; he touched the fingertips with his tongue, lavished them with attention and actually _moaned_ when Spock tried to remove them and thrust them back in right away. This made Spock repeat the motion, again and again, until he was all but fucking Jim's mouth with his fingers and it felt so good, Jim moaned more, feeling like a slut and _loving it_.

He was so engrossed in it, he didn't notice when Spock unzipped his jeans until a cool hand touched him through his underwear, eliciting a soft wailing sound that just might have been the most embarrassing half-pitched moan ever; it didn't matter, though, not when Spock _groaned_ softly into Jim's ear and slipped his hand under the waistband of his briefs to come in contact with hot naked skin, and Jim squeezed his eyes shut. His teeth grazed Spock's fingers in his mouth and he felt the Vulcan shudder before the hand between his legs grasped his erection in a firm grip; his eyes flew wide open before slowly closing again as Spock moved his hand up and down Jim's hard shaft. And oh god, his hand was cool and a bit too dry, but getting warmer and slicker as it pumped and spread pre-cum over the length of Jim's erection until the motion felt smooth and tight and too good.

Suddenly the fingers from his mouth were removed. Jim wanted to protest, but it was swallowed by Spock's mouth as the Vulcan kissed him the Human way, hard, demanding, pushing his tongue inside and dominating the kiss completely. Jim let him, because he loved how it felt and he loved being controlled like that; he loved that the only thing he could do was to make those small noises that were immediately drowned by the kiss, or buckle his hips up in an attempt to get more friction, or tighten his hands on the fabric of the black shirt that covered Spock's shoulders as he was suddenly coming, too soon, too hard, eyes wide open and head thrown back and Spock's name a drawn-out half-moan, half-scream torn from his lips.

It took what seemed like hours for the hazy pleasure to clear off, for his head to feel less foggy. Spock held him close throughout his orgasm and its aftermath, stroking his back in a light, soothing caress that invoked a soft, fulfilled hum from the bond connecting their minds. Jim was content to just sit completely boneless in the Vulcan's lap, his face buried in the crook of Spock's neck as his breathing patterns slowly returned to normal.

He finally looked up at Spock a good while later, sated and sleepy until he saw the way the Vulcan was observing him: eyes cool and unreadable, distant, as though they hadn't just been intimate – as though he hadn't just jerked Jim off to an incredible orgasm.

'Please remove yourself from my lap,' he said, voice completely neutral, monotone, almost _cold_. 'It is most logical that I leave now. I have studies that require my attention.'

'Studies,' Jim muttered, but obediently stood up, tucking himself back into his jeans at the same time. He already knew this had been a big mistake. Maybe irreparable.

Damn it, for a few moments of pleasure, he might have just sacrificed the whole fragile relationship he had with his exceedingly stubborn, irritating Vulcan something-like-husband.

'I will visit you again tomorrow, Jim,' Spock promised as he headed towards the door, and the words were slightly contradicted by his tone, still cool and emotionless. 'We shall have a rematch then.'

Jim surmised that not all may have been lost when Spock kissed him, gently, before he left. Both the Vulcan and Human way.

*

'The point is, Kirk, that language should not have evolved this way as far as all source materials could tell,' Uhura said, frowning, the following day when Jim caught her unaware in the Starfleet Academy mess and engaged her in a long and pointless linguistics debate to take his mind off of things. 'One moment, they have six hundred different languages and one poor excuse for a global dialect, and the next – a fully fledged, complicated language with grammar and phonology that give Terran Asian languages a run for their money. It's as though a whole phase of language forming has been erased from history. I don't understand it.'

'Well, maybe it's actually about the history,' Jim suggested, pushing one of Uhura's books in her direction. 'Look, there was a war on Khazad, wasn't there? Similar to the World Wars here on Earth, only much more thorough in ridding the planet of the majority of its population, which by the way is something we may be looking at on Mattiana IV if the Federation guys don't pull their heads out of their asses with their whole “no intervention” business,' he narrowed his eyes, inadvertently mirroring Uhura's frown. 'What was I saying? Ah, the war. Some surviving Khazad tribes actually called it “the war of written word”, or _sigwaana skhum-dur-taann_ , “the battle of that which has been said and inscribed”. Current lore, not yet disproved by researchers, says that it might have been in fact a war started by factions that wished to see to the development of language. Now, we're talking about a warp-capable, but non-united civilization with a short temper and a love for each tribe's culture and language. Of course, each representative would have pushed for their own language to become world-wide, or at least to influence the new global language the most.

'So, they got themselves into a war that lasted over fourty seven planet years – that's something like fifty two? Three? In human time frame – and, according to legends of that time, books in every language were gathered and burned,' Jim paused, then shook his head. 'Of course, there were many possible outcomes after that, if it's even all true.'

'You're saying, they could have destroyed the sources that record the changes in language, but the language itself prevailed in the spoken form?' Uhura asked, thoughtful.

Jim noticed she hadn't touched her meal, too engrossed in the discussion. Discreetly, he gestured for the waitress – a nice, cheerful Betazoid girl who, funnily enough, had an unhealthy regard for Vulcans – to carefully exchange the food for a fresh equivalent. Otherwise, the celery and leek soup would have been disgusting and Uhura most likely wouldn't have eaten it, and Jim couldn't have it. He needed his Communications Officer well-fed and healthy, after all.

She never noticed a thing, but she started actually eating when the fresh bowl of soup was served.

'That would make sense, wouldn't it?' Jim inquired in reply to her question. 'See, the Khazad-khinz, their current language, still uses the most basic script from before the war: the Sinsuh tribe's pictographs that, at best, vaguely reflect the phonetic values of the vowels and consonants. Based upon this, it's not illogical to assume that the lost period of language-forming was, in fact, obscured by the time of war and successfully erased from history by the burning of all written word.'

'Still, doesn't explain how they all started using it after the war ended,' Uhura said. 'What comes to mind is, the population was clearly decimated during the war; it is possible that the survivors belonged to few clans. It is even possible, although improbable, that only one tribe survived the war in large enough numbers to dominate the remaining people. That would have made the evolution of the language actually enforced instead of natural.'

'Or, it might have evolved naturally on the battlefields. While the opposite sides had their own languages to talk amongst themselves, they needed to form alliances and sign treaties from time to time as well. Such a need could have pushed them into forming a language all sides would understand,' Jim hypothesised.

Uhura actually grinned at him in a friendly way – as in, she didn't look as though a ritualistic beheading was going to follow the display of contentment on her face. 'You know, you're pretty smart. I might make a linguist out of you yet,' she said. 'It's a pretty sound theory, even more so in light of the recent research carried out by the Andorian Multi-lingual Institute. Apparently, new digital recordings have been discovered in the bunkers. They allegedly belonged to the _Kvgragn_ tribe during the war. They document interesting linguistic changes over five years of battle in what appears to be chronological order.'

'I didn't know that,' Jim admitted. 'Wait,' he started. 'Were you testing me? You were totally testing me! You're one wicked lady, I'll have you know.'

'Likewise, Princess,' Uhura joked. 'Oh, look, there comes your prince to sweep you off your feet,' she teased.

Jim was startled to see Spock in the mess, but he was even more surprised by the off-hand tone of Uhura's comment. His accidental Vulcan marriage was as secret as it could possibly be, with only a select few people being aware of it: Bones, Selek, Christopher Pike and Number One, by association. Also Sarek, but that was a given. The thing was, Uhura was not supposed to know; had Spock told her, or maybe it was about Jim? Oh God, it was totally about Jim. He must have been so obviously transparent to Uhura, who was excellent at reading body language.

Hopefully, she just thought of him as a guy with a crush the size of the Laurentian system, or something.

'Good afternoon,' Spock greeted them – or rather, Uhura, who was not given time to answer to the greeting anyway, because Spock immediately turned to Jim with a carefully neutral expression and said, 'Come with me,' and Jim could feel, through the bond, a sense of urgency and _desire_.

Confused, he stared at Spock. 'Did something happen?' He asked.

'Now,' Spock all but hissed and then – grabbed his wrist and pulled him, quite effortlessly, out of his seat; Jim had no choice but to follow (or rather, to let himself be dragged through the mess, because struggling would gather too much attention), though he did manage to mouth a silent apology to a rather bewildered Uhura.

Spock didn't speak the whole time they were walking and he didn't say a thing when they reached Jim's apartment building, the elevator, the apartment itself. He barely waited for the door to close behind them before he _pounced_ , pinning Jim against the wall and capturing his lips in a demanding, bruising kiss. Jim found himself returning it enthusiastically, opening his mouth to let Spock's tongue in; yet, when a cool hand started to unbutton his jeans, he protested softly and pushed against Spock's shoulders. When it did nothing to deter the Vulcan, Jim bit his lower lip, hard. Spock actually growled and backed off, but the way he looked at Jim was almost enough to make him forget all inhibitions.

He shook his head to clear his mind. 'Spock, what,' he began, but then the Vulcan grabbed his ass, distracting him. He concentrated hard on what he needed to say, then tried again: 'Fuck, Spock, what's with you all of a sudden?'

'Be silent,' Spock replied, apparently at the end of his patience, since he immediately attempted to kiss Jim again.

But Jim turned his head, so Spock proceeded to suck on his collarbone instead, which made thinking somewhat more difficult than before. Spock's hand, incredibly cold on Jim's heated skin, gently caressed his abdomen and returned to its earlier task of unfastening Jim's jeans.

'No, stop,' Jim protested once more.

'Be silent,' Spock repeated in a hiss against Jim's jaw. There was a certain urgency to his movement now, as he grabbed both of Jim's wrists in one hand and pinned them to the wall above his head; Jim struggled, alas without any real conviction, the realization of how this power-play was the most erotic thing he had ever experienced hitting him and rendering him completely pliant.

For the next couple of minutes, Jim didn't think, lost in the sensations Spock was inflicting upon him. He never got around to asking what it was all about – almost as soon as he made him come, Spock left without another word.

It made absolutely no sense.

*

In most families, children saw asking their parents about stuff like sex as consistently awkward. Jim, however, had been raised by a Vulcan, whose attitude towards knowledge in all areas of life practically guaranteed free access to any topic without a hint of awkwardness ever, despite any ideas to the opposite that the Internet forum users had been trying to fill his head with in the past. Thus, the most logical solution Jim could think of when Spock left him sexually satisfied, but extremely confused for the _fifth time_ was calling his _A'nirih_ and simply asking about it.

'If he wants me, he could just tell me and stuff. But he's acting like he doesn't care one minute and then he's on me the other, and I don't know what to think. Also, he won't let me touch him, he just holds me down, makes me come so hard I see stars, and leaves without a word,' he complained, only vaguely wondering belatedly if there was such a thing as “too much information” where Vulcan parents and children were concerned.

'I hardly think this is a situation that requires my intervention at this point,' Selek replied, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in amusement. 'Unless he is doing something against your will.'

'What? No, no, nothing like that,' Jim said and shook his head. 'He doesn't force me or anything, not really, more like, I say “no” for the kicks. It's just that, I don't know what he wants from me. I don't know what I want from him,' he admitted sheepishly.

'The two of you are long overdue for a conversation,' Selek decided. 'Speak to him. Tell him of your regard, if you wish so. Let him know that his desire, at least, is reciprocated. Be stubborn, Jim. If you are unrelenting in your pursuit, it is likely Spock's resolve will crumble and he will explain his actions to you, at the very least.'

'Or not,' Jim muttered. 'He's still pretty cross with me after the Narada incident. I think he's holding a grudge because I didn't immediately tell him his mother was alive,' he sighed. 'Damn. It's going to be a pain when we're in space, you know. Spock jumping me out of nowhere and barely talking to me in a civilized manner when his hand is not down the front of my pants.'

'Are you positive you would not rather discuss this with a friend instead? I have been informed by Number One that young people find talking about sexual practices with their peers preferable to such talks with their parents,' Selek said, both eyebrows disappearing high into his hairline.

Jim laughed. 'What, you think I should ask Bones? He'd either die of laughter or he'd kill Spock with his bare hands, so. I'd rather not take that risk. Why, are you uncomfortable? If you don't want to discuss this,' he paused when Selek continued to look at him in amusement. 'Wait, no. You're laughing at me. _A'nirih_ , this is not fair. You can't be laughing at me. It's a legit problem I have here.'

'I am certainly not _laughing_ at you, Jim,' Selek informed him fondly. 'I shall have to end this communication for the time being, as my duty calls. However, be aware that we shall meet in person very soon. I anticipate seeing you again, my son.'

Jim grinned. The sentiment was returned.

*

Sparring might not have been Jim's best idea for an activity in which to include Spock, especially in a public place, but he did have a propensity towards acting without thinking everything through. It was oddly satisfying to be able to throw a punch or seven at Spock, feeling his fist connect with the Vulcan's jaw at least once; even though Spock probably barely felt the impact, unlike Jim, who could have sworn that he broke his hand on his opponent's hard cheekbone, it was still with a feeling of triumph that Jim recalled the hits that landed on the target.

Of course, that was _before_ he found himself pinned beneath the Vulcan's strong body, caught in a trap for everyone in the gym to see. Spock's eyes, dark and dangerous, were trained on his face as Jim struggled to no avail. Like a predator, he was watching his prey try to get away and he must have been pretty self-satisfied that Jim couldn't break out of the tight grip on his arms.

'I yield,' Jim announced finally.

Spock's hands tightened on Jim's wrists, the force with which he held almost bruising now. Kind of painful, if only slightly and only for a brief moment. Quite obviously, his idea of _yielding_ was slightly different than Jim's, judging by the leg that forced itself between Jim's own, spreading them; deciding that decency had to be worth something, Jim hissed at Spock,

'Stop this, we're in public, you caveman,' which got him an immediate result: the Vulcan stiffened and swiftly stood up. He did not flee, although that was what Jim would have expected. Instead, he offered his hand to Jim to help him up.

Accepting the assistance, Jim rose to his feet. 'We need to talk,' he informed Spock under his breath and then grinned brightly, turning to address their audience. 'Show's over! Sorry to those of you who bet on me; obviously, this was the one no-win scenario even I was helpless against,' he exclaimed with a wink. He was answered with loud laughter and applause.

Even through it, he felt Spock's glare at the back of his head.

*

Four hours later, they had yet to talk, but at least there was progress – Spock did not jump him as soon as the two entered Jim's apartment, where they were scheduled to play chess, even though he did look kind of intense; well, tough luck, because Jim was not going to let him have his, uh, wicked way, before they had a serious conversation.

'You are entirely to blame,' Spock informed him out of nowhere, 'for my lapses in control. Whenever you are in my vicinity, your mind calls out to me and it is... difficult, not to take advantage. My actions have been inexcusible at best, however, for which I apologize.'

'Wow,' Jim said and plopped down on the sofa. 'I don't even know where to start. You're blaming me? Seriously? You think I'm a victim, clearly, but you still blame me? Since when is victim blaming a thing?'

'I-' Spock began, but Jim interrupted him:

'No, wait. You know what? I won't make it easy for you. Fuck you. I've been nice long enough, minding the situation Vulcans are in, but that's it, that's my limit right here. Why don't you start at the beginning? As in, explain yourself. Preferably explain _everything,_ ' he demanded sternly. At least he hoped he looked stern instead of goofy. He was not the best at this kind of thing.

'I have desired for you to be mine since the moment you first looked at me and smiled,' Spock said.

As far as romantic confessions went, Jim supposed this one took the cake.

'But, but that was when I was sixteen. Wasn't it? Spock, that was six years ago,' he muttered, brows knit together in confusion. 'And no offense, but I kinda remember you being a dick to me at the beginning? Until I kicked your ass at chess.'

'I recall no _kicking_ , and there were certainly no male genitals, much less any Human males named Richard, involved,' Spock countered plainly; the hint of humour disappeared quickly from his expression, though. 'At the time, I was... confused. Having chosen to honour the Vulcan way, I was not aware that I would ever find myself feeling in this particular fashion about any individual. I realized how mistaken I was after our first match of chess. I decided to study you, as one would an especially intricate mathematical equation, in order to determine what it was that made me react differently to your person than I would to any other. My study remained inconclusive. Over your stay in San Francisco, I discovered your outstanding intellectual proficiency, which drew me in even more. Your kindness, showing in the anxiety you appeared to exhibit over the well-being of an alien race you have just read about; your appreciation for cultures so different from your own, your willingness to adapt to the customs of Vulcan in your interactions with me, as well as your general aesthetically pleasing visage, made you... a desirable mate in my mind, at the time.

'Yet, I would have made no move. I would have been content with becoming your study companion, with guiding you through learning processes and with interacting with you purely through our shared interest in sciences. Yet, when you accompanied me to the party, I could not stand the sight of you surrounded by multiple individuals, all of whom were more interested in your physical attractiveness than the vast expanses of your intellect. I was confused by my own emotional reaction once again – I believe that was the first time when I experienced the feeling of jealousy.

'It was not the last, as I have later discovered. For three years, you have been but an echo in my mind due to the distance between us. I was aware of the link between our minds that allowed me to feel your emotions when they were at their peak, but I chose not to divulge that knowledge to anyone. My logic, faulty as it was, dictated that since you were a member of a mostly psi-null species, there was little to no probability of the bond affecting you in any fashion, so no intervention on my part was required. I... enjoyed, being able to experience your emotions so freely. I preferred not to think about the undeniable fact that I was taking advantage of your mind, something I am still ashamed of.

'Then, all of a sudden, you arrived at the Academy, and you were even more pleasing to look at than before. I could not tear my eyes away from you, so I avoided you when I could. When I could not, I was unable to maintain a professional attitude towards you, so I all but bullied you instead. Again, I experienced jealousy over your easy friendship with Doctor McCoy. I observed the casual way in which you engaged in interactions with fellow cadets – it unnerved me, because, in my mind, regardless of what I wished to think, you were already mine.

'When you cheated at the Kobayashi Maru, it was an ultimate betrayal. I was not willing to forgive you for the way our relations turned out to be, even though it was me who was at fault. Add to that the destruction of my home planet, what I perceived to be, in that traumatizing moment, to be the loss of my whole family; I became emotionally compromised and twice, I took that out on you. Twice, my actions would have caused your death.

'Over those six years in which I have known you, I have committed many a crime towards you, Jim. The only excuse I have is, I did not understand; I did not wish to. I was used to the thought of spending my life alone, being a Vulcan-Human hybrid who could not form bonds, and I did not recognize my chance at a fulfilling companionship with you. Even now, when I struggle not to touch you, such a thing occurring is difficult to imagine,' Spock concluded and looked at Jim, who had been listening with wide eyes the whole time.

'You bastard,' was what Jim decided to convey in reply. 'You stupid bastard,' he shook his head and laughed. He must have looked like a maniac, at least to Spock, who was not yet used to the rapid mood swings in Humans, despite the years he had spent on Earth.

But this was it: the whole truth.

'Jim,' Spock said.

'You know what's crazy?' Jim asked, calmer now. 'What's crazy is, I'm not even mad. I should be, but I'm not. I'm just tired, Spock. I need you to leave me alone until I figure it all out. Go help out in the refugee camps, teach at the Academy, do whatever strikes your fancy. Just, don't come and see me. We'll meet on the Enterprise.'

It was not, by any means, an order – but Spock respected his wishes nonetheless.

Jim just had to get used to playing chess with Gaila again for the time being.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter, this time from Spock Prime's point of view, will be added next week. Thank you for reading!


	4. If there is true logic to the universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are planets to survey, alien species and pirates to defeat, dubious science to discuss, bondmates to reunite and chess games to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final part. Sorry for the slight delay and please enjoy!  
> Warnings: lots and lots of dubious science, mostly.

**Part four: If there is true logic to the universe**

  
  


The bridge on this Enterprise varied from the memories Selek carried in his mind, and yet it was unmistakenly the same ship, manned by the same people he remembered from his own timeline. Younger, yet no less curageous, no less curious about the wonders of the universe than his crewmates had been, the Alpha bridge crew especially seemed to strike a cord within his soul.

In a future that shall never be, he had forged friendships on that bridge that lasted whole lifetimes. Inexplicably, no matter how changed this new reality was from what was originally intended, some indefinable force still found a way to gather these people on the same ship, under the command of a James Tiberius Kirk.

_If there is true logic to the universe,_ said the voice of a differrent Jim Kirk, from a different time, trapped forever in a holovid message contained in a pendant Selek had never shown his son,  _we will meet on that bridge again, someday_ .

Selek looked at the young, bright-eyed man in Command gold, who grinned back at him from where he was sitting of the Captain's chair.

_You were right_ , he thought in reply to the memory of his Jim Kirk.  _Someday_ .

*

After many a meeting, the Council pre-selected three viable planets for the Enterprise to begin the scouting for a potential new Vulcan homeworld with, based on the data possessed by the Federation as well as on Selek's personal input. All three were somewhat lacking in comparison to what they were meant to replace, but worth surveying nonetheless. In case they were unable to find a place more suitable, one of these three planets could serve as a temporary measure in the least.

Selek chose to join the crew of the Enterprise during the mission of his own initiative, for many a reasons, not the least of which was loneliness after his bondmate's natural death. When he suggested his inclusion to Christopher Pike, it was met with much enthusiasm. Apparently, Starfleet was under the impression that the mission lacked credibility without an Elder being directly involved. Selek came at the right time to both help the 'Fleet out and, coincidentally, to surprise Jim.

And what a surprise it had been! The look of minute confusion and then the familiar, overwhelming happiness in the bright eyes of his son made Selek, too, feel elated. There was much joy to be had in a family reunion at this time; Selek knew first-hand of Jim's partially self-imposed isolation from his closest friends and from his bondmate. He knew, from the frequent communications during the last three months before the start of the mission, how lonely Jim felt, even if he did not desire to admit it.

(This unwillingness to seek help and advice when he was in need of counsel was a remnant of the unhappy early childhood, Selek believed, and it stemmed from memories of abuse that were long since buried, leaving behind only the insecurity and a kind of human fragility that evoked the instinctual need to protect in those that surrounded Jim. Selek found he was not immune to it after years of caring for Jim, of watching him grow from a helpless boy into a courageous man.)

Of the whole crew, Spock displayed the biggest discomfort upon finding out about Selek's intended stay aboard the ship throughout the duration of the mission. It was, in retrospect, an amusing display: a young Vulcan male, visibly flustered as he appeared to try to determine what repercussions the events would have on his existence – and, judging by the almost imperceptible glance he stole at Jim, he may have mistakenly believed the time for punshiment for his previous actions towards his bondmate was in order.

Jim was capable of exacting his own punishments. Selek had no intent of interrupting their relationship dynamics, provided that it stayed in the  _consensual_ category. 

'Well, there's no  _relationship_ there for the time being,' Jim explained after his first shift since leaving the space dock, as he was accompanying Selek to the mess for dinner. 'I kind of dumped him. Now,  _A'nirih_ , let's talk about something fun? Like, tell me about that new plant discovered near the evacuation camp on Delta Vega? The cold-resistant, what was it? Nightshade?'

'It does appear to be similar in properties to several specimens of the Terran nightshade family,' Selek agreed. 'The main difference, of course, is its resistance against sub-zero temperatures.'

The conversation continued in this vein for the next three point seven hours.

*

Some things remained unchanged and Selek suspected no matter what universe he would end up in, there was no possibility for them to change; one of these generic “things” was, apparently, the procilivity Jim exhitibted towards doing what Starfleet regulations outright stated he was not supposed to do: namely, he insisted on being included in every away mission, regardless of the potential risks involved.

'Captain, if I may express my opinion - it is illogical for you to beam down with us,' Spock told him reasonably. 'Myself and Elder Selek are quite enough to establish whether the planet suits our purposes. Your presence on the surface is quite redundant.'

'Noted,' Jim replied pleasantly. Then, 'I didn't ask for your opinion, though. Ensign, beam us down. Let's see what it looks like down there.'

Selek admitted to himself that he may have made a dangerous mistake in the process of raising Jim. He would have to meditate on that if he found a moment, although he did not expect that to happen in a foreseeable time. Knowing his son, their immediate future was more likely to include danger, risk and adventure that he was eagerly awaiting even in his old age.

Perhaps even more so than when he was young.

*

The planet was red.

This was the first word that came to mind upon beaming to the surface. It was also the second, third and quite possibly the fiftieth word that came to mind. Everything in the viewing distance of the landing party was red: the ground, the plant life, the sky – indeed, the air itself appeared to bear the colour of the surroundings as well. According to the preliminary scans they had conducted from the Enterprise, the planet was rich in iron, which may have been partially responsible for the vivid colouring.

Another cause for that, it appeared, was a substance of an unknown origin that Jim proved to be unsurprisingly allergic to.

'I'm okay,' he argued, despite already exhibiting laboured breathing and an increase in heartbeat rate of approximately point zero-thirty-three per cent. 'Let's just carry on. You guys know I'm allergic to anything. It'll pass, Bones hypoed me before we beamed down.'

'I was not aware you were allergic to _everything_ ,' Spock stated, appearing scandalized. 'Certainly, this an exaggeration, and indeed, you only are possessed of a small number of allergies?'

'Bones says they're in their second hundred now,' Jim replied calmly and shook his head. 'Shut up, this is not about my allergies. You got your tricoder, put it to good use. On the planet, not on me,' he exlaimed, alarmed when the younger Vulcan pointed the device in his direction.

Selek found their interaction... amusing.

'The hell is that?' Asked Jim after a period of full ten minutes of relative silence, when the two Vulcans dedicated their attention to scanning the area.

“That” was a cloud of blue, so brightly contrasting against the overbearing red of everything that it appeared unnatural; moreover, in addition to looking unexpected in the surroundings, the cloud was getting closer in a rapid movement, swirling like the harbinger of a thunderstorm. As it was approaching, Selek noticed a noise, not unlike aggressive buzzing of a swarm of insects; it grew louder as the distance between them and the cloud grew closer. From the slightly worried look Spock was sporting, the elder Vulcan assumed that his young counterpart came to the same conclusion.

Jim's eyes widened when he, also, connected the noise to the swirling cloud. 'Enterprise, do you copy? Three to beam up,' he ordered to his comm. In reply, he only received the sound of static.

Spock caught Jim's arm and pulled him into a crevice between the darker red rocks. There was barely enough space for three humanoid beings, but they fit; in an effort to offer Jim additional protection, Spock held him in an unrelenting embrace, which appeared to make the man uncomfortable.

'Let me go, pointy, I can't breathe,' Jim protested.

That was when the blue cloud caught up to them and Selek suddenly could differentiate words in the midst of the chaotic buzz.

_Primitive language We communicate What are you Why are you here What are you Really You are weird Isolated Separated Is it not lonely How are you What are you Different Where are you from What are you Why are you not one How can you not be How can you be We are the Oxannae We are the Blue You are invaders Respond Respond You shall be removed Yet you are also Blue What are you What are you **WHAT ARE YOU**_

'They are speaking to us telepathically,' Spock observed, eyes closed and face nursed into a practiced non-expression. He was in pain; he had to be, for Selek was as well. The assault of words in their minds was hurtful and violent.

'You don't say,' Jim replied, sarcastic and composed; he did not appear to be feeling the brunt of the assault, or else his psi-null mind was dealing with it in a way much different than a Vulcan mind was capable of. 'Anyway. Umm. Oxannae? My name is James Kirk. These are my father Selek and my First Officer Spock. We have come to this planet on behalf of the Federation, and we are coming in peace.'

_He is Blue He is ours He is of us He understands What are you James Kirk What is a James Kirk What is a Federation What is a father What is a Spock What are you James Kirk ??_

'I'm a Human, of the planet Earth, or Terra,' Jim replied to the question that resounded in all of their minds, buzzing in a thousand voices. 'Umm. With all due respect, but. Is there maybe a possibility for you to, I don't know, speak to me exclusively? My father and my First Officer are of different species – they are called Vulcans, of the late planet Vulcan, by the way – and the way you communicate with us appears to be painful to them,' he explained. Under the circumstances, it was as diplomatic as he was going to get, Selek could tell.

The buzz in his head gradually subsided, replaced by the insectoid, incoherent noises of an angry swarm. The last comprehensible thing he heard of the alien consciousness was, _We will keep you You are us You are Blue –_ and then, the familiar, ordered silence of his own mind was undisturbed once again.

The blue cloud, however, seemed to swirl faster around them,  _around Jim_ , attempting to extract him from Spock's arms in a flurry; Jim, on his part, did not fight the flow, as though he did not care either way if the unknown alien presence really intended to abduct him. 

'Captain,' Spock called over the buzz and tightened his hold on his bondmate, who tried to shrug it off.

'Jim,' Selek spoke up.

Clear blue eyes – too clear - looked up at him sharply.

'We are Blue,' Jim said with conviction, 'We are Oxannae. This one is of us. This one is Blue.'

'No, he is not,' Selek countered gently. 'He is appealing to you, but he is not one of your race.'

'Neither is he yours,' the alien hive mind responded in Jim's voice. 'He is not a son to you, but a substitute of what you had once loved. We are Blue. We shall cherish him. We are Oxannae.'

There was a grimace on Jim's face just then, not unlike a muscle spasm, and then the buzzing cloud swirled urgently – angrily, Selek assumed as he watched Jim's fingers intertwine with Spock's.

'Sorry, guys, but I'm kind of not.  _Blue_ , you know. I'm red.  _Attiannhae_ ,' he said, concentrating on the last word, which meant nothing to Selek. 

_Attiannhae Attiannhae Impossible You are Blue Oxannae You are of us You are YOU ARE_

'You guys run to the clearing and get out of here,' Jim muttered to Spock and Selek over the outraged buzzing that now made it to the Vulcans' minds again. 'I'll distract them and then I'll follow. Trust me.'

'Captain,' Spock protested softly.

'It's an order,' Jim clarified. ' _A'nirih_ , make sure he's safe,' he pleaded. Then he pushed the Vulcans away as he ran, fast as his legs would carry him, from the rock formations towards the plant life area.

The blue cloud – the Oxannae – followed him, swirling in intense excitement, just as expected.

'Contact the Enterprise,' Spock told Selek almost as soon as he predicted Jim was out of hearing range. 'I shall follow the Captain and ensure his safety.'

'Against his will?' Selek asked, lifting an inquiring eyebrow.

'If such a necessity arises,' Spock replied without hesitation. 'His safety is always my priority.'

Selek would have argued, were it the appropriate time and place for such an interaction to occur, that the same was the priority that guided Jim's actions: the safety of Spock, the safety of his bondmate. There was, however, little time to spare on pointless discussion, and it was running out as they stalled. Jim was not going to be able to outrun the enemies for long, even if, owing to the long hours he was wont to spend on physical training, he was in excellent form. The allergies would catch up to him – his breathing indicated that the atmosphere of the planet did not agree with his delicate systems. That was a serious disadvantage.

'What do we know about our adversary?' Selek changed the subject.

Spock nodded in apparent approval of this approach. 'They call themselves Oxannae, the Blue. They appear to be multiple sentient beings made up of some concentrated form of energy. They share a joint consciousness, what is commonly referred to as hive mind, and they are capable of using it to exert a degree of control over a human mind. They are able to use Standard in communication.'

'They seem to possess the ability, to put it coloquially, to _read minds_. They cannot, however, interpret emotions. I believe they do not have such an aspect to their existence,' Selek contributed his own observations. 'How do we rescue Jim from them?'

'I will be able to block them if they try to overtake his mind again,' Spock stated with conviction. 'However, I am unsure of how to beam back to the ship, since no contact could be established through the interference the alien presence appears to be creating.'

_I can help_ , a disembodied voice offered.

Selek looked around in alarm and noticed Spock doing the same.

_Do not fear. I am unlike Oxannae. I am Attiannhae. I am red,_ the voice continued, gentle and reassuring in tone.  _You cannot see my physical form because it is not sizeable enough for your limited vision. It is of no matter. I can help you retrieve your Oxan-hae._

There was a shift in the air and Selek was reminded of gentle winds that used to occur on Vulcan at the brink of the summer season, or, oddly enough, of the cool oceanic breeze he had experienced at the hot beach during the trip to Australia with Jim. The memory surfaced in his mind and brought with it a sense of peace, which was when Selek realized that he was being manipulated into feeling something he was not likely to feel in the situation as it was.

'Whatever you are, remove yourself from my memories,' Spock said loudly; the air shifted again and the younger Vulcan outstretched his hand. When Selek looked at it, a red chess piece – the Queen – sat in his palm. It looked familiar. The wooden texture and the overall shape brought back recollections of numerous long matches from years long past, when a troubled child battled his demons with the use of chess strategies and gambits. It had to hold some meaning to Spock as well, as he let his fingers close protectively around the small piece.

_Take this to Oxannae and shatter it. Shatter it and scatter it. Blue becomes red. Oxan-hae is free. You will leave and you will not return. This place is my home. It cannot be yours._

'So be it,' Selek replied.

*

Jim spent the next three days in Sickbay, including the three hours right after beaming aboard the Enterprise when he was unconscious; comfortable with relying on Doctor McCoy's expertise, Selek did not remain by his son's side, mainly because there was already a Spock there, trying and failing to appear as though he was only worried about the Captain's well-being in a professional capacity – a Spock that Jim now needed more; a distraught bondmate who needed Jim.

So instead, Selek proceeded to familiarize himself with the Enterprise as it was in this timeline, a pass-time he had grown fond of since the beginning of the journey. The differences, he realized, were vast and reflected the changes that came to be when Nero first emerged from within the singularity and attacked a Starfleet vessel; both the ship itself and its crew were affected, it seemed, by the change in circumstances which led them all to meet aboard the USS Enterprise.

Nyota Uhura, for example, was one of the people made most different by the change in timelines. The Communications Officer he had known was a strong woman just like this one, and yet that Uhura had possessed a certain frailty that did not seem to be a trait of her young version. This Uhura that Selek met on board of his son's ship was harsh, independent and even more of a linguistic genius.

'It's not hard to be good at something when you can't help but be fascinated with it,' she explained when Selek complimented her on the perfect pronunciation of a particularly formal Vulcan greeting she gave him on a chance encounter in Engineering. Despite the words, which may have been deemed arrogant by a third party, it was obvious she was flattered by the praise.

'Jim informed me that you are fluent in thirty-six languages, including all dialects of Klingon and a number of sign-languages of the Killthra tribes,' Selek said, then nodded. 'This is a very inspiring achievement, Miss Uhura.'

'Thank you, sir,' the Lieutenant replied. 'Kirk was wrong, though. Uh, the Captain. It's thirty-seven languages, sir.'

She beamed at him when she spoke; Montgomery Scott almost tripped over his toolbox as he attempted to work and watch her, awe-struck, at the same time. Some things, Selek noted, were constant in every universe; even if, he realized, they came much sooner than they originally had in his own timeline.

'Jimmy said it's because of the timeline distortion that was caused by the singularity. By moving across the time continuum via the wormhole, Nero created a shift in the time and space, which was then pushed even more when the Kelvin was destroyed,' Gaila told Selek in the mess, sitting across from him, like she was far from being intimidated by a Vulcan Elder in her company.

She was an unfamiliar, but welcome addition to the Enterprise.

'I have not heard that theory,' Selek admitted. He wondered if it was a work in progress thesis of Jim's, or if he had not shared it for another reason. Yet, he could not fathom such a reason at all. Jim was always open with him about theories, even if they were implausible or completely hypothetical. Explaining the roots of his ideas in order to validate them against someone of more knowledge and experience always appealed to him most of all.

'Well, that's probably because he was high as a kite when he told me all about it,' Gaila replied with a laugh. 'He had an allergic reaction to the preservatives in canned orange juice, so Len McCoy hypoed him with some new life-saving concoction. It got him high, and apparently Jim talks science when he's on drugs.'

'Is that so?' Selek asked, amused.

'Yeah. So, when he started talking about time distortion and the shift of time and space, I was all ready to ignore him altogether, but it was interesting and made some sense. Of course, the theory needed adjustments,' Gaila paused, frowned at some fleeting thought she had, and carried on, 'but it was still a good foundation for something. I had lots of fun with the equations. I even got little Chekov to help me, because it's hard to keep up with geniuses without being one sometimes, and in the end, we managed to form a thesis that proves that the time and space of our universe was indeed altered upon contact with Nero in relation to the original universe the Narada was from. According to my maths, the events are happening earlier than they would have without Nero's interference. Here's where Chekov kind of disagreed with me, because he thinks they are happening at the same time they would, but with different results, but well, he's a little kid so his opinions don't count.'

'He is your fellow crew member,' Selek admonished her and observed Gaila's laughter.

'Yeah, but he's barely even _fifteen_! Len McCoy almost had a seizure when he found out,' the Orion said and shook her head. 'Now, then. Won't you tell me about Jimmy, Ambassador? You raised him. You must have hundreds of simply _fascinating_ stories from his childhood!'

'Must I?' Selek asked, lifting an eyebrow.

'Of course! I won't believe it if you say he was a completely normal, usual child. He's Jim Kirk. There's nothing common about him,' said Gaila.

Her logic was flawed, but Selek did not point it out, because he did silently agree with it. Instead, he recalled the memories of his son's childhood, sifted through them until he found one he did not mind sharing.

'When Jim was seven years old, he demonstrated an unexpected knowledge of a certain Vulcan term,' he begun and told Gaila the story of the first time Jim had called him _father_.

She was a good listener.

*

_First Officer's Log, supplemental._

_The Captain remains unconscious after we have encountered previously uncategorized, sentient alien life forms on the planet designated Veld IV. Captain Kirk was telepathically assaulted by the life forms, calling themselves Oxannae, the Blue._

_The life forms possessed a hive mind and adapted to the use of Standard in telepathic communication. Interactions with them caused pain to myself and Ambassador Selek, who accompanied us to the surface, however these same interactions did not seem to cause discomfort to the Captain. It is worth mentioning that the life forms did not appear to have a physical form, rather they seemed to be made up of energy in high density, blue in colour._

_In order to rescue the Captain, myself and Ambassador Selek have been forced to accept assistance from another life form, which called itself Attiannhae, the Red. The life form was also telepathic and possessed no physical form. It exhibited the ability to create objects from the dust particles found in the planet's atmosphere. One of such objects was presented to us as a solution which would save the Captain._

_Upon breaking the object, as instructed by Attiannhae, we have observed a cloud of red dust encompassing Oxannae and the Captain. It blocked our vision for three point one minutes. When it cleared, the Captain was unconscious and Oxannae were nowhere to be found. Attiannhae assured us that the Captain was going to be “adequate” and prompted us to leave the planet immediately. We beamed back to the Enterprise._

_I have come to the conclusion that further study of the life forms, the native language and the surface of Veld IV is not recommended at this time. Needless to say, the planet is therefore not suitable to home the population of Vulcan-That-Was._

*

'Blue eyes,' Jim said when Selek visited him in the Medbay, 'are causing me lots of trouble lately. It must be truly rare, you know, to end up in so many hairy situations just because of the eye colour.'

'You are truly remarkable, Jim,' Selek informed him, amused. He was delighted to see his son fully conscious, laughing at the hint of a joke with unbridled happiness. Jim was, as always, the warm presence in his life that gave it meaning. It was especially pleasant to talk to this bright young man and feel pride at being his parent.

'Tell me, though. Did your Jim Kirk get into such trouble all the time?' Jim asked, propping himself up against the pillow.

'You would not believe me if I told you,' Selek replied with an almost-smile that he let himself show only when his son was around.

'Awww, not fair. Tell me so that I can judge by myself,' Jim pleaded, eyes going wide in what humans called the “puppy-eyed look”. It was, admittedly, pretty effective, despite the illogic of such a notion. Selek enjoyed spoiling Jim, most probably. He knew if his own Jim Kirk was there to raise the boy with him, it would be Jim doing the spoiling while Selek remained the stoic Vulcan mentor type.

Jim would have been a great father, had he had a chance.

'One time, he got his body stolen from him by an ex-girlfriend who envied him his position in Starfleet,' Selek finally said, recalling the story from the corners of his memory.

He did not usually let Jim know of any events that might have had any bearing on his future, so that his son could lead the life he had before him and make his own choices. In spite of this, he concluded that this particular story was safe enough to be brought up: as far as he knew, the Jim Kirk of this timeline never met a girl named Janice Lester, let alone dated her and caused her grief.

'That's... pretty hardcore,' Jim admitted. 'Elaborate? Please? I'm bored our of my mind and Bones won't let me get back to do anything productive yet. How did he return to his body?' He paused, thought for a moment. 'He did return to his body, right?' He asked finally, curious.

Selek nodded, unable to deny him knowledge when he was so freely expressing the desire for it. Moreover, the chance to talk about the Jim Kirk that only existed in his memory was all too tempting not to take. 'Yes, Jim. He did. I like to think it was because I believed him when he told me what happened. Even in the body of that woman, he trusted me to believe him and help him. I did.'

'Weren't you two bonded?' Jim interrupted, brows knit together as he thought about something.

'We were, but the bond was stretched very thin because of the body switch,' Selek explained. 'I was not able to sense it until I melded with Jim. That, of course, was one of the reasons I found it easy to believe him,' he said. 'The sudden disappearance of the bond was most alarming, especially so when I could see my bondmate in front of me. I knew not of anything short of death that could possibly break a bond such as ours.'

'Not even death could break it,' Jim said with certainty, smiling. 'It's like everything you are, everything you ever want to be, is just a part of something bigger, like all your life means nothing on its own, but it's validated by the presence of the bond. Like it defines you and _he_ defines you. I... I know, _A'nirih_. It makes me happy, but it scares the everloving fuck out of me. Those Vulcan bonds are a pretty dangerous thing.'

Selek wondered about the danger of loving somebody to the point of desiring nothing more but to be one with them. Of belonging to somebody and owning them in return. Of being a part of a bond that was larger than life itself. The ruins in his mind where that bond of his used to be throbbed painfully at the remainder of being whole; even with the new, much weaker link he now had out of necessity, that bond could never be replaced. He did not want it to be.

_Yes_ , he concluded. Vulcan bonds were dangerous.

*

The second planet they orbited, affectionately dubbed _Hellfire_ by the Starfleet crew that discovered it due to its climate, was actually the first choice the Council proposed. The temperatures were slightly higher than on Vulcan-that-was, but the overall structure of the planet was the closest match of all that they had ever set eyes on.

It was disappointing, then, when they watched the surface fall prey to spontaneous combustion caused by who knew what.

(Actually, Selek had a theory that he gladly measured up against Jim's contradictory one: he believed the cause to be in a recent increase of temperature of the planet's sun, while Jim postulated that the combustion was a cyclic event that devourted everything on the planet's surface every ten to twenty years or so. They did not reach an understanding in the discussion, but it was fulfilling none the less.)

(Spock, Selek noted with amusement, sided with Jim early on, even though his opinion was not required.)

They stayed in orbit for three days just to observe and rule it out completely. During those three days, the overall temperature of the ship reached a norm that only Vulcans were accustomed to. The rest of the crew became restless as time went by.

'We cannae keep her here for much longer,' said Mister Scott when Jim asked about the environmental control. 'The systems are overheating, Captain. Twelve hours, sixteen tops, and then we'll all be baked in here.'

Jim hesitated. Looked up at Selek. Smiled. 'Okay then, Scotty. Do what you must. Let's say, we stay here for another five hours, for science's sake – no, don't look at me like that, we're actually waiting for the fire-proof sonds to come back – and then we leave. Can you make sure we're all set?'

'Aye,' Scott promised with a grin, positively relieved that Jim did not choose to stubbornly hold on to hope where there was none.

Selek approved.

'It was our best prospect,' he admitted to Jim, 'but alas, we will search elsewhere. Do not worry, my child. What may seem to be the best choice is oftentimes revealed to be less than that. It is not unlikely that we will find a most suitable candidate in a completely different, ah, _corner_ of the galaxy, so to speak.'

Jim frowned, an expression on his face that displayed great concentration as he appeared to search for a misplaced thought. A memory, perhaps, or a vague recollection or remark from the past, something that he would not have remembered if Selek's comment did not trigger a spark of recognition.

Then, he said, 'Pletonia VII. I can't believe we haven't thought of this in the first place.'

'Pletonia VII?' Selek asked. He remembered reading a dissertation concerning the planet which, in the opinion of the author, was too unstable to conduct research on, not to mention colonization.

' _A'nirih_ , this is, I don't know, perfect! Imagine an exact replica of Vulcan, but with a natural defense of black holes in the area... a space minefield, if you may. There's no way anything like Nero could happen again, and it would shield you guys perfectly during rebuilding. And just like Vulcan, it's visible from Earth,' Jim grinned, somewhat dreamily. 'Isn't that amazing? For thousands of years, the Humans have looked up into the sky to see you guys there. And like this, they still will.'

'What you are saying is certainly a good bedtime story,' Spock said and Selek was actually surprised, because he did not see the younger Vulcan enter. 'But please try to look at it realistically, Jim-Captain. There is no sufficient data to bring it up before the Council for consideration. The last Starfleet expedition to Pletonia took place three years and five months ago, but did not manage to enter the planet's orbit due to the magnetic interference.'

'Yes, I read that report,' Jim replied, absent-mindedly; Selek could tell his son was already plotting something big. 'Listen, they tried to actually break Pletonia's defences, to maneouver between the black holes. Obviously it didn't make much sense. We wouldn't do that. With Chekov's help, I bet I can come up with the best trajectory for an approach. Gaila can provide us with equations, too. With enough caution, we can survey the planet with no danger to the ship, and I'm sure it's much better suited for Vulcans than any other piece of space rock you can come up with.'

'Nevertheless, putting your vast imagination aside, this is not where our orders direct us. As Captain of this ship, you must realize that. You must be able to differentiate between what you wish to do and what you must do,' Spock said coolly. 'Do you?'

'What is it with you again?' Jim asked, raising his voice. 'Damn you, why can't you just, I don't know, decide for once? Either you're with me or you're against me! You can't be both!'

'I would very much like to, as you say, _be with you_ ,' Spock said softly and the tips of his ears flushed a deep green hue as he glanced briefly at Selek and then back to Jim. 'It is you who will not let me.'

He was embarrassed, but unwilling to pass up the chance to talk to Jim. Selek found it heart-warming, because it meant Spock was coming to terms with his more emotional side. Feeling very old in that moment, Selek wondered if he had ever truly been that young. Of course, in the years he had known his Jim Kirk, he had been young in his mind if not always in body. Loving and being loved, he had paid no mind to the passage of time. Now, however, now... he wished he had cherished it more while it lasted, having lost it forever. The older he was and the less life remained ahead of him, the more he found himself reminiscing about the past – and the more he missed it.

'I will leave you two to settle your differences,' he said, heart heavy with emotion he did not want to reveal.

Jim sent him a slightly panicked glance, but Selek paid him no mind. Not this time, when the only piece of advice he could offer was, _cherish each other, because I would give the world to have back what the two of you so casually put aside._

*

'I wouldn't discard Jim's theory so soon, Ambassador,' Gaila informed Selek, sitting at his table three hours and twelve minutes later for a friendly game of chess. She was not as formidable an opponent as Jim, but Selek did not believe anyone was; still, she was a good player, capable of winning as many matches as she lost. She provided a pleasant way to spend time.

'Which theory are you referring to?' Selek asked, although he already had a rather good idea.

'Oh, you know, about Pletonia,' Gaila replied matter-of-factly. She grinned. 'Can I take black this time? I've got a great strategy in mind for black,' she said.

'Of course. I look forward to seeing your plan unfold,' Selek admitted.

'I won't disappoint. Now, about that theory. You see, I couldn't help but overhear that conversation a few hours ago in Engineering. You know, the one just before Jimmy got a mouthful of his First Officer's tongue, which, by the way, I totally did not see if anyone asks. Anyway, I started thinking. What if Pletonia VII is, in fact, something completely different than we think? What if each time the red matter was ignited, it created a wormhole, a point of entry in the event horizon? Just like with Nero. And with you, Ambassador,' she added with a smug expression. Selek was impressed with her perceptiveness.

'How did you guess?' He asked, lifting an eyebrow when he noticed her move. She was setting up a defensive strategy – something completely opposite of her normal play.

'It wasn't easy, don't worry – no, I get it, you're Vulcan and therefore you don't worry at all – but I figured it out eventually. It's all the things about you, I guess. How smart you are. How you know everything. How you lived on Earth and took care of Jim for all this time. But when I saw you come aboard the Enterprise and interact with the crew, well, that was it. I knew Nero must not have been the only time traveller around,' Gaila grinned at him cheekily. 'Jimmy knows, doesn't he? And Spock too, I'd say. Maybe Len, but probably not, he wouldn't be able to keep it to himself.'

'I will very much appreciate it if you keep it to yourself, young lady,' Selek said, nodding in acknowledgement of her deduction skills. 'It is not something we wish to advertise. It could bring some unwarranted attention to the possibility of me possessing knowledge that could change the whole universe... again.'

'Of course I'm going to keep it to myself,' Gaila promised. In a sudden, unexpectedly bold move, she took out his Rook and put her Knight in a very unfavourable position. 'It's not what I want to talk about, anyway. Where were I?'

'Ah, yes. Pletonia VII and the black holes, you were saying,' Selek reminded her gently.

'Right! Okay then, imagine a singularity like the one that brought you here, but created in the heart of a planet. What do you suppose happens to all the matter it sucks in? We're talking thousands of metric tons of matter. Dirt, rocks, metal, everything. It _has to_ go somewhere, either as space debris or, well, something else. Now, this might sound crazy, and it probably is, at least until I get my hands on an advanced PADD to do some more complicated equations, because my head is only good for so much – but what if the singularity actually connected with a black hole of natural origin that was already out there in space and which became an output destination?' Gaila paused, most certainly to catch a breath, because she certainly did not think to do that much while she talked.

'You are suggesting that Vulcan-that-was has not been fully lost,' Selek realized. 'You are suggesting that the planet was transported to a different location via a black hole. You do know how impossible it is, my child?'

'It's not! That's the thing: the red matter, it changes everything we know about the laws of physics in our universe, and to be honest, we don't even know that much, I mean, half the things I learned about physics don't even apply to Orion, so who knows what works and what doesn't anywhere else. Think about it, Ambassador: Nero's ship was transported here, probably randomly. His arrival itself changed the chronology of events that were to come. Then, through that same wormhole, albeit at a different gate, so to speak, you came out as well. Now, that singularity was probably not even that charged, since it had to deal with both your ships _and_ a supernova. Fun times. What's even funnier is, I can tell you right now that the points of exit in both cases were connected to black holes existing previously in these locations. It's pretty much a fact. I have the equations there somewhere,' Gaila looked around for a PADD, which she then passed on to him. 'It might be the negative energies drawing each other? I'm not that good with astrophysics, I'm just a theoretical mathematician, if you can believe it with all the stuff I've been discovering out here.

'Thing is, I really think I'm right. Me and Jimmy, when we share a theory, it's always based on completely different factors for both of us, but it works. We're nearly always right. So when he says Pletonia VII is our planet, I can't help but back him up in this,' Gaila said and frowned when Selek took her Queen.

'It is an interesting theory,' Selek admitted after a while of silence that preceded Gaila's next move on the board. 'However, I do not find it credible. I am sorry, my child, but I think you should give it up. Even if you manage to convince me – I do not rule that out – the Council, I am afraid, is a much harder entity to convince of anything.'

'Huh... that might be true,' Gaila agreed. Then, she smiled brightly and moved her Rook. 'Checkmate in five turns,' she announced.

Selek looked at the chess board, at the situation he walked into without noticing, and could not help but offer a small, barely-there smile. He wondered if Gaila learned the tactics from Jim – the ingenious strategy, the art of distraction, it was all distinctly like his son. Or maybe she just exhibited the same brand of easy genius that was so prevalent in this exceptional crew. Being in her company was a reminder of sorts that even though the universe was changed beyond recognition by his mistake – not all changes were for the worse. Some may have been for the better, like the friendly Orion girl who, in his own timeline, never made it to the Enterprise where she could beat her equally extraordinary friends at chess.

'Fascinating,' Selek told her.

She nodded. 'I bet you my skirt that Jim will find a way to get us to Pletonia VII. And what we find there will be more than you could hope for, Ambassador.'

*

Delta Fauri was a planet more comparable to Earth in most aspects than to Vulcan-that-was; more than sixty-seven point five nine per cent of its surface was covered in water, the abundance of which was the most notable difference that the Council pointed out as a flaw. Selek was not certain he agreed with that assessment: despite the presence of vast oceans, the single continent of Delta Fauri was almost an exact match in terms of microclimate and yearly temperatures. It was also reportedly uninhabited, a conclusion made after multiple excursions to the planet's surface and below its ocean: it was unlikely that a repetition of the events from Veld would occur.

Of course, Jim Kirk in every universe attracted trouble like a magnet specifically designed for it; he did succeed in getting himself _and_ his First Officer kidnapped within the first ten minutes of the planet's survey with the landing party. It was, Selek had to admit, incredible. No other members of the away team suffered any inconveniences, not even minor injuries – but Spock and Jim were, without a doubt, gone.

'Pirates,' Mister Hendorff from Security theorised. 'This region is known to be traversed by space pirates and slavers. Captain Kirk would make,' he paused for a second, then continued, 'an interesting, umm, slave. Popular with the buyers. I think.'

He was blushing fiercely and trying to pretend he was not. Selek knew that at least fifty per cent of the crew harboured intense feelings of admiration towards their Captain; it became apparent that at least for a certain part of them, the admiration was not platonic. Small wonder; Jim was most probably unaware of his own sensuality, but other people were much more perceptive, much more receptive to it. This universe's Jim was an unobtainable dream for all, smart and charming just like Selek's Jim, but much younger, with an aura of danger that drew people in. His blue eyes only heightened the allure.

To Selek, they were soothing precisely because they were so different from what he could picture in his memory. Were they the same, they would serve as a painful reminder of a past future that he could never return to. As it was, he found it easy – as he always did – to view this Jim Kirk, his son, as a completely separate person from the bondmate that would not be returned to him even had he found a way to go back to his own timeline.

'Lieutenant Uhura, check the long-range communication scanners, see if we can pick up any signals in the area,' Sulu ordered; he was in charge of the ship during Jim and Spock's absence and he knew what he was doing. 'Doctor McCoy, prepare the Sickbay just in case. With our Captain, emergencies are not unusual,' he shook his head. 'Ambassador, do you wish to go with the search party?'

'No,' Selek decided. 'It is best if I stay on board to assist the crew with all that I can. Perhaps Gaila could be included, however. I can see she is bursting with energy,' he nodded at the Orion.

She smiled nervously. 'Sir,' she said. 'I have unique experience with pirate slavers that I believe nobody on the Enterprise possesses or will possess in the future. If Captain Kirk and Commander Spock were indeed captured by pirates, I have the best chance to track them down.'

Sulu did not question her. 'You're in, Ensign. Mister Hendorff, you as well. Chekov, don't even think about it,' he glared at the Russian, who pouted.

'I could wolunteer,' he muttered. 'I'm not a kid, I have zhe field experience!'

'Yes, but I'll need you here. You're the navigator, you think quickly. If there are some pirates who want to escape at warp, you're my best hope of tracking them down in space, but you can't do that if you're on the surface,' Sulu reasoned and got through.

Selek was pleased to see Jim's crew being as outstanding as his son himself, all of them with the same instincts that drove their Captain into success every time. In the end, it was Sulu's wits, Chekov's precision, Gaila's equations, Hendorff's quick reaction time that got Spock and Jim out of the slavers' hands and safely back to the ship.

They did not return alone. A Human male was beamed back with them, with grey hair and hazel eyes that were familiar and precious and Selek never thought he'd see them again.

Suddenly, the bond he was so sure he would never feel again was back in place as though it had never been broken.

*

'I don't know what you're talking about,' Jim said, shrugging off doctor McCoy's frantic efforts to scan him for any damage he could have sustained in captivity but wanted to keep to himself. 'Just, I really don't. You say I did something extraordinary, but all I did was grab the guy and tell him he was going with us. I don't even know who he is.'

'You are lying to me,' Selek concluded, because he knew that to be true: either by purposefully telling an untruth or by omission, his son was lying, and it was the first time he had ever experienced being lied to by a Jim Kirk of any universe.

'Ambassador, you are not the only one being lied to,' Spock spoke up. His hand was on Jim's shoulder, as if to keep him from running away. 'He is shielding his mind from me.'

'Of course I'm shielding my mind from you, I broke up with you, remember? You can kiss me in Engineering all you want, it won't change my mind that easily,' Jim bristled.

It was a diversion tactic.

'Anyway, will everyone agree with me now that we go to Pletonia VII? Or do we have to keep running into pirates, telepathic energy and other weird stuff in order for you to believe me?' He asked, rolling his eyes.

'James Tiberius Kirk,' Selek said, voice calm and steady, because he was Vulcan and therefore not prone to shouting at his progeny, 'you will explain exactly why there is a different version of _you_ on this ship, a version I must add has been dead in the timeline he comes from, or so help me, I will set Number One on your case.'

Jim, not surprisingly, winced. 'Okay, okay, I'm telling everything,' he muttered and sat down at the nearest biobed. Spock stood by his side like a sentinel, still holding his arm in a firm grip. 'Bones, get that thing away from me,' he scoffed when the good doctor all but poked him with a tricoder. 'I'm blind,' he announced and almost smirked when that, at last, made McCoy halt. 'That's why Spock here keeps touching me inappropriately. I can kind of almost see stuff through the bond when he does that. Outlines, really, but it's enough, and it's probably going to pass-'

'Wait, wait, wait,' doctor McCoy interjected. 'How the hell did you manage to go blind?'

'That's what I was going to tell you, Bones,' Jim replied patiently, although he did sigh before he continued. 'The pirates had this thing. A ring, if you believe it. I kind of stole it, because they talked about using it to destroy the Federation or some other bullshit like that. I didn't tell Spock, I didn't want to worry him. Well, turns out, the ring is an artifact they picked up in some corner of space we haven't even heard about before. It's supposed to be a powerful weapon,' he shook his head. 'I put it on, because it became invisible once I did, and I thought nothing of it. I even laughed at the pirates, because they were blaming one another for losing it.

'Until the night came and I somehow activated it in my sleep.'

'I was not asleep, guarding the Captain,' Spock spoke up, 'when he vanished. For all of two minutes, I could not feel his presence in my mind. The bond was broken for all of two minutes,' he said and his voice did hitch as he looked at Jim. 'Exactly one hundred and twenty seconds after he disappeared, the Captain was back, completely intact, and the bond was complete again. However, he was not the only one who appeared in our cell.'

'Like I said, I kinda saw him and grabbed him,' Jim explained, except it was not an explanation as much as a complication. 'I thought I was dreaming. I heard voices asking if I was ready to pay the price, but I didn't really care because, man, I knew exactly who the guy was. He was me, but not me, he was my _A'nirih_ 's bondmate. I couldn't leave him there, wherever it was. Well, that, and he asked if I knew a way out. I did, so I took him back with me.'

'You basically resurrected a man from another timeline, using an alien device of unknown origin, because you _saw him and grabbed him_? Goddammit, Jim, you and your saviour complex!' Doctor McCoy exclaimed.

'I may have been at fault,' said the other Jim Kirk from the biobed next to Selek and it became clear that he was not asleep. 'I've been looking for a way out for so long, I could've come off as a bit desperate, so to speak.'

The blue-eyed Jim laughed at that. 'No, it's fine. I may have a bit of a saviour complex,' he admitted. ' _A'nirih_ , tell me I did the right thing.'

'Jim,' Selek said softly. He was not sure who he was talking to, especially as the familiar, warm fingers touched his hand. His breath caught and he did not know what else to say, what else to do. For the first time in a long time, he was at a loss.

'I can attempt to explain if you want,' Uhura offered, immediately gaining the attention from everyone in the room, including the elder Kirk and doctor McCoy, who stopped grumbling for the time being.

'In my studies of known ancient languages of our quadrant, I encountered a legend from Intiaggio,' she began. 'It was an interesting story. I thought it was more like a fairytale. It spoke about the _exxoffiango_ , which literally translates to _a piece of jewelery with the power to grant secret wishes for a price_. Seems like the tribe that came up with this legend was not particularly imaginative in terms of names. Anyway, the legend said that only a pure _rerendtrind_ could activate the artifact and that it activated only through dreams. If used correctly, it allegedly had the power to resurrect people, cure sickness or destroy empires. Of course, no such artifact was ever found in any ruins on Intiaggio,' she assurred them. 'At least not officially,' she trailed off.

'Jim's surely not a _rerenblah_ , whatever that is,' McCoy said, making a face.

' _Rerendtrind,_ Actually, he is,' Uhura replied. 'It means _blue-eyed_. Many ancient tribes on Intiaggio believed that blue eyes granted what amounted to shamanic power. Their leaders were blue-eyed, according to the depictions that survived. Captain Kirk most certainly fits the description.'

Silence followed the comment, before,

'I'll be damned,' Jim announced. 'I knew it was those damn blue eyes. It's always all about them.'

*

Jim was as stubborn as he could possibly be; he did, in fact, order the course for Pletonia VII and he spent multiple hours with Gaila, Scott and Spock in his ready room, discussing, creating equations and plotting the safest route to the planet. He also made an effort not to be available whenever someone from Starfleet tried to contact the Enterprise; to her credit, Uhura was very good at coming up with plausible reasons for the difficulties in reaching the ship, including some rather creative system failures caused by space garbage.

If Spock was still against this, he did not let it show.

'I told you,' said Kirk, his Jim Kirk, who was temporarily set to share his cabin. Selek did not find it problematic. In fact, he appreciated the chance to observe the man – to verify if he was really who he looked like, who he appeared to be. The Vulcan did not know of any beings that could fool a bond between a joined couple, but that did not mean none existed. Distrust was the best approach. Or it had been.

'What was it you told me?' He asked when Kirk did not elaborate.

'That we would meet on board of our ship again,' the Human replied, smiling. He had a special kind of smile that remained young, boyish, even when his features changed to reflect his age. 'And alas, here we are. We're old, Mister Spock – do you prefer I call you Selek now? - but I admit I feel young again.'

'I feel content,' Selek admitted truthfully. It had been two days and Kirk revealed no harboured ill will towards him or any other crewman of the Enterprise. Instead, he told Selek of the time he spent in a place beyond all time, looking for a way out, back to the world of the living.

_'I knew exactly who the boy was when he came to get me,'_ he confessed two days ago with a bit of heart-felt guilt that seemed to also affect the bond between them. _'Immediately, I knew of his life and his love for you. Your son is amazing.'_

_'He is'_ , Spock had replied. 

'Check,' Kirk informed him after having made his move on the 3D chessboard. It was another amusing, subtle difference – while the younger Jim had a preference for the traditional chess, Selek's Jim had always liked the three dimensional version more. 'Is your mind not on the game, Mister Sp-Selek?' 

'Meditation is not enough to deal with the turn of events that has come to pass,' Selek replied, smiling at his bondmate as he removed his King from immediate danger. 'I have been most inefficiently trying to sort it out, but it has not been easy.'

'You're still not sure I'm really here,' Kirk guessed. He looked at the board thoughtfully. 'It's understandable I guess. I don't believe I'm here most of the time. I'm still afraid I'm going to wake up and find myself back there, trapped forever. If it's a dream, do you suppose I can dream it infinitely?'

Selek nodded. 'Yet, it is no dream,' he said. 'My son freed you and returned you to me in exchange for his vision. I feel something must be done about it, and quickly, before Starfleet learns of his condition.'

Kirk agreed. 'He'll find a way to regain it,' he said with certainty. 'And if he won't, well, his overly protective husband most likely will. First, there is a planet we all need to see for ourselves,' he paused. Looked away, then back at Selek. 'I missed you.'

'I was not whole without you,' Selek said, taking his hand. 'Jim filled a void in me, helped me find a goal in life once again, but even he could not become what I truly was missing. He is a different person, shaped by different circumstances. He is not you.'

'No,' Kirk agreed, touching his cheek. 'He is not me. He is his own person and he has you to thank for it. Are you proud of him?'

'I am,' Selek admitted easily, like he always did. 

The Jim Kirk of this timeline, the little boy he had once picked up in the middle of a deserted quarry, was an extraordinary Human, with a sharp mind and a loving heart. Surrounded by friends who would readily sacrifice their lives for him as he would for them, he continued to grow up, defined by nothing but what he chose to define him. Selek was honoured to be one of those defining factors, to be able to call this young man his son. He was proud to be his father.

Even though the future events were still to cause him much grief and amazement and wonder; even though hidden undereath the sands of Pletonia VII were the steady foundations of Shi'Kahr's most distinguished buildings just waiting for discovery and joyful rebuilding; even though dangerous war criminals from the twentieth century were about to make a statement and set about the ruin of the Federation's peace – at that moment in time, holding his bondmate's hand and thinking about his son, unaware of what was to come, Selek was truly content.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, this story. It took me a year to write it and I would never have finished it if not for **muse, who has also become one of my best friends in fandom ever in the process. The Spock Prime Big Bang challenge gave me the opportunity to push myself to my limits when it comes to writing, to exceed my own expectations. It forced me to type words even when the only thing I wanted to was throw myself out the window in frustration.**
> 
> **I truly loved writing this story as much as I hated it. Thank you to everyone who took the time to read it, to enjoy it maybe, especially to those of you who made an effort to let me know you liked it. Every time a notification was sent to my email that someone enjoyed the story, it brought a huge smile to my face. Thank you again and again. You all showed me that writing really is worth the time and effort.**
> 
> **This is, obviously, not the end. A sequel will be written sometime within the next six months. Explanations will be had, actions will be taken, wars will be fought and friendships will prevail. Maybe some unfortunate bonded lovers will finally come to their senses about what they want from each other. Who knows? Everything can happen in Star Trek.**


End file.
